


(for the love of) The Soft Game

by decidueye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAkaKuro Week, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Genderfluid Character, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/Other, Trans Bokuto Koutarou, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/pseuds/decidueye
Summary: Keiji was content to be Bokuto's best friend, and to watch his relationship with Kuroo from the sidelines. Kuroo, however, had other plans, and he was determined to make sure they came through.





	1. provocation expert

**Author's Note:**

> written for [BokuAkaKuro Week 2017](http://bokuakakuroweek.tumblr.com) \- a seven chapter fic, one for each prompt. the rating will go up to M/E at chapter 6, just as a warning.

 

“Thanks for staying late with me, Akaashi. You’d think at Toudai, people would wanna practice more than at Fukurodani, but I still couldn’t find anyone to toss to me…”

The sun was setting as Keiji made their way out of the gym, Bokuto pulling on their arm and pouting. They were running late on their way back to Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment, but Keiji had made sure to warn Kuroo by text as soon as Bokuto approached them after official practice, so they weren’t too worried about ruining dinner. 

“I don’t think anyone wants to practice as much as you do, Bokuto,” was Keiji’s dry response, and Bokuto laughed loudly, throwing an arm around Keiji so enthusiastically that they lost their balance, stumbling on the road.

“Except you!” Bokuto pointed out, and Keiji couldn’t help but agree, if begrudgingly - here they were, after all.  “You’d better hurry up and get on the regular team so we can play real matches together again. I miss spiking your tosses on the court!”

Keiji sighed. Bokuto had been talking about this ever since they had started at Toudai, over a year ago now. He was the whole reason they’d joined the university volleyball club in the first place, despite knowing that they didn’t have enough talent to make it onto the regular team and wanting to concentrate on their studies. Bokuto was relentlessly optimistic, though, and pushed Keiji forward at every opportunity, much to the other players’ dismay. It was no wonder that Toudai’s regular setter refused to do any extra practice with Bokuto when he was constantly trying to get an underclassman to usurp his position.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Keiji said, and even though it wasn’t something they were upset about, Bokuto squeezed their arm comfortingly, resting his head against theirs for a brief moment. Keiji’s breath hitched for just long enough to irritate them; this was supposed to be something they’d moved on from.

“It’ll happen, I know it,” Bokuto said, with all of his usual confidence. He kept hold of Keiji’s arm as they walked, changing the subject to what Kuroo might be making them for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon, exactly, but there was something about the way Bokuto’s coarse fingertips pressed tightly into the flesh of Keiji’s bicep that felt new, like something more than his usual desire to be grounded. Keiji turned their head to study Bokuto, but he was looking far ahead, his profile, like his mind, fixed firmly on where Kuroo would be waiting for him to come home.

Waiting for both of them, technically. But Keiji was just a guest, and it wasn’t the same.

“Hey, Akaashi.” Bokuto’s voice shook Keiji out of their reverie. He still wasn’t looking at them, which was rare - he always wanted to make sure he had Keiji’s undivided attention whenever he spoke. “This is fun, right?”

“What?” There was nothing particularly exciting about their walk to Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment. Sometimes Bokuto would drag Keiji into the convenience store for snacks, but even that was repetitive, if comfortably so.

“Fridays with me and Tetsu. We have fun, don’t we? The three of us?”

“Of course…” Keiji said, frowning. Bokuto was asking for reassurance, that much they could tell, but they couldn’t put a finger on where his insecurity was. They’d have to play along for a little longer. Bokuto nodded firmly to himself, humming assertively.

“Right, right, of course it’s fun,” he said, and then laughed, the same abrasive way he did when trying to build himself up during a match. “It’s you and Tetsu! And me. We’re good together - the best - the most fun!”

Keiji bit the inside of their cheek, repressing a fond smile. “I suppose we are,” they commented, and then decided to make a guess, looking up at him thoughtfully. “Do you think that I’ve been feeling left out?”

Bokuto stiffened. “No!” he said too quickly, and then slowed his pace, glancing askance at Keiji’s expression and pursing his lips. “Maybe… something like that. Not that, though.”

“You have nothing to worry about, then,” Keiji told him, relieved to have found the source of Bokuto’s tension. “I’m not you, and you and Kuroo have both been very considerate. I haven’t felt ‘third wheeled’, don’t worry.”

Keiji said the phrase with wry amusement, knowing that it would soften the blow of their frankness, which was meant to reassure. Bokuto was self-aware enough to know that he was projecting his own sensitivities onto Keiji if they pointed out. They were thankful that it was also enough to divert Bokuto’s attention from any other reason they might have felt isolated.

It was irrational, anyway. Bokuto and Kuroo  _ were  _ considerate, and Keiji only longed for things they wouldn’t have been able to have in any situation.

“Great!” Bokuto said, laughing again, and Keiji felt lighter. “You’re so important, Akaashi. Both of you are! I’d hate it if you didn’t feel special.”

Special or ordinary. It was that simple, as far as Bokuto was concerned. Keiji relaxed into the feeling of his hand on their arm, and wondered if they ought to start looking at things with the same simplicity. They were special to him, and maybe that could be enough.

Keiji listened to Bokuto talk about his week in comfortable silence after that, interjecting when expected until they reached the apartment. Bokuto had, as always, forgotten his keys, so Keiji rang the doorbell while Bokuto ransacked his pockets and gym bag.

“They’re here somewhere…” he muttered, and Keiji quickly covered a laugh. He always said that, and they never were. They turned to tell him as much, stopping short when their attention was caught by Kuroo answering the door.

The smell of barbecued pork drifted out from the kitchen, but when Keiji’s mouth went dry, they couldn’t be sure that it was because of the food. Kuroo’s chest was bare except for an apron, leaning against the doorframe with ridiculous, patterned shorts sitting low on his hips. Keiji’s gaze flicked upwards from where it had settled naturally on his clavicle to his face, which bore a shit-eating grin. He’d clearly caught Keiji staring, and he waggled his eyebrows, Keiji’s own forming a disapproving frown.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” Kuroo said, and Bokuto hummed in approval, finally looking up from his futile search. 

“Nice,” Bokuto commented at the sight, kissing Kuroo’s shoulder on his way into the apartment. Kuroo moved aside, looking at Keiji again, and they narrowed their eyes. Kuroo could only be that smooth when he’d thought it out; he had to be planning something.

“Hey, you,” Kuroo said. A separate greeting for each of them, of course, because no matter how much time Keiji spent there, this was not their home. Their suspicions were replaced with a brief moment of heaviness, and they nodded, moving past him. “What, no kiss for the cook?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Keiji said dully. Ahead of them, Bokuto stiffened and looked back, eyes wide and hurt. Keiji swallowed their confusion. “Sorry we’re late.”

“It's fine, Akaashi, relax,” Kuroo said, closing the door behind him. “You texted me, so nothing was ruined. I kind of expect it by now, anyway.”

“Hey…” Bokuto whined on his way into the bedroom, already pulling off his shirt to change into something more comfortable. He left the door open, but Keiji still felt exposed when he was out of sight, left to be regarded coolly by Kuroo. 

“You never can refuse him, can you?” Kuroo asked. Keiji felt heat creeping up the back of their neck, and shrugged their shoulders. 

“He's still set on me making the regular team,” they explained, though it sounded weak even to their own ears. “The extra practice is good for us both.”

Kuroo hummed in noncommittal agreement, laughing when Keiji glared and then heading back into the kitchen. Toeing off their shoes, Keiji followed him, eyes roving over the wiry muscles on his back. 

“You’re good, though, right?” Kuroo spoke, obviously having expected Keiji to follow. He held out a spoon and Keiji automatically opened their mouth, tasting the barbecue sauce, sweet and tangy on their tongue. They licked their lips, nodding in approval, and Kuroo smiled, genuinely pleased; he was always insecure about his cooking, despite it being the best of the three of them. “I mean, you’ve had a good day.”

“It was nothing special,” Keiji responded, moving over to where the vegetables were cooking and scowling when Kuroo slapped their hand away from the pan. “Class was...uneventful.”

“Damn,” Kuroo whistled, “I wish I could say the same. Our professor chewed the whole class out today.”

Keiji looked at him, surprised. “Why?”

“I gotta say, I’m not sure...something about our attitude,” Kuroo said, and then grinned. “I had my headphones on, so I didn’t hear a lot of it.”

“That might have something to do with it,” Keiji said, rolling their eyes. The rice maker beeped, and they went to take care of it, allowing Kuroo to focus on the rest of the food.

“Come on, he’s a jerk. I don’t even need this class, and I can pass it with one hand tied behind my back.”

“You should do that, then. It might be enough to push him over the edge.”

Kuroo laughed loudly, coming up behind Keiji and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Keiji startled, jerking the rice scoop in their hand and sending rice all over the counter.

“I like your style,” Kuroo said. His mouth was next to their ear, chest pressed tightly against their back, and Keiji’s shoulders tensed when he reached out to eat some of the rice that had spilled.

“Gross,” they muttered to justify their stiffening. Kuroo laughed again.

“What? It’s clean. You’ve got to loosen up, Akaashi,” he moved his hands to Keiji’s hips, forcing them to sway exaggeratedly. The heat on their neck began to spread upwards, towards their cheeks. “Roll with the punches, live in the moment, seize the day!”

Keiji wriggled out of Kuroo’s grasp, a little more aggressively than they’d originally intended. “I’ve had quite enough of your clichés, thanks.”

Kuroo put a hand to his heart, his pout not quite reaching his eyes. “Ouch,” he said. Keiji snorted; Kuroo was never the one who got hurt, even when their playful exchanges went too far. He could read Keiji too well, and even though that was a skill Keiji prided themself on, Kuroo still evaded their comprehension.

Maybe that was what drew them to him. Well, that and the way Bokuto looked at him like he hung the sun. When Keiji followed Bokuto’s gaze to Kuroo’s laughter, they could almost see him hanging it themselves. Of course in their case he’d have to be smug about it, though. For Bokuto, everything Kuroo did was selfless and natural.

Bokuto emerged from the bedroom exactly as Keiji and Kuroo began serving - he had a nose for it, he declared loudly to both pairs of rolled eyes. He took his seat between them, immediately diving into the food, and Keiji watched him, taking a long sip of water to hide their laugh. There was nothing remarkable about this; Bokuto attacked his food with the same gusto every week, and yet it was exactly that familiarity that made Keiji feel so warm in a way that was difficult to contain.

“Careful,” Kuroo noted, watching Keiji with dark eyes, his chin resting in his hand. Keiji’s gaze snapped to him, caught. “He’ll eat everything while you’re busy swooning.”

Bokuto looked up, eyes wide and mouth full, turning his head between Kuroo and Keiji. When their eyes met, Keiji jerked into action, reaching out with their chopsticks for the pork, looking firmly at their plate.

“You’re being ridiculous, Kuroo,” Keiji said, for lack of a better reply. It was weak and they knew it, but Kuroo seemed determined to come for their sore points today. He’d never mentioned that he was aware of their crush before, but his teasing and flirting implied a confidence that only came with sure evidence. He must have known this whole time, and now he was finally letting them know what he thought of it.

On the same day that Bokuto had made sure to include them, Kuroo was shutting them out. It figured that they weren’t allowed to entertain anything resembling hope for too long.

They ate in silence, ignoring Kuroo’s jibes and the way Bokuto’s pace slowed, his voice getting louder as he grew more nervous. They wanted to reassure him, but it was difficult, knowing that anything they said would be seen through right away by Kuroo, and knowing they wouldn’t get any time alone to collect themself. They focused instead on the food, chewing each bite carefully and taking note of the flavours, and the heavy way it settled in their stomach.

“I’ll clear up,” they said when they’d finished, standing up as soon as Kuroo opened his mouth so that he couldn’t get a remark in. Bokuto looked up at them, his lower lip pouting and bitten.

“Do you want help…?” he asked, and it sounded hopeful, but Keiji shook their head.

“No, I’ll be fine. You and Kuroo can get the movie set up, perhaps? I’ll join you soon.” 

They leaned over the table, gathering the plates, and for a second they saw a flicker of uncertainty pass over Kuroo’s face. Straightening, they looked at him carefully, watching him avoid Keiji’s gaze before looking at Bokuto, scratching the back of his neck and wrinkling his nose. Keiji couldn’t understand what he was trying to say, but it was clear enough that the message wasn’t meant for them, so they turned away, moving into the kitchen to give them a chance to talk - and themself a chance to breathe.

Bokuto and Kuroo began mumbling as soon as they were out of sight, and Keiji placed the plates on the counter before leaning against the wall, sighing heavily. Getting yourself into a domestic routine with the two people you have a crush on while they were dating had to be a special kind of masochistic, and Keiji had never thought of themself as that kind of person.

Harried voices carried from the living room, but Keiji couldn’t make out what either of them were saying. Bokuto sounded stressed, and Keiji imagined Kuroo trying to placate him - hopefully without revealing his awareness of Keiji’s feelings. It was bad enough that Kuroo had caught them out. 

Keiji shook themself, clenching their fists before beginning to load the dishwasher, one item at a time to allow themself space to breathe deeply and calm down.

They were interrupted before they could switch the machine on, startling when Kuroo’s lean figure appeared in the doorway. Kuroo laughed awkwardly, and Keiji noted that his earlier cockiness had disappeared.

“Need anything?” Kuroo asked, looking aimlessly around the kitchen. Keiji’s brow furrowed.

“I told you I was fine. Besides, I’m done now. Is the film ready?”

Kuroo nodded, entering the kitchen without meeting Keiji’s eyes. Their unease from earlier returned; what could possibly be going on that was making both Bokuto and Kuroo behave so strangely? Was Kuroo really that nervous about telling Keiji to back off?

“Yeah, yeah, Kou’s just setting up the cast. I wanted, uh...snacks,” Kuroo said, opening a cupboard. It’s the right cupboard, where all of their junk is kept, but this is Kuroo’s apartment, so Keiji was no more convinced by his accuracy.

“Uh huh,” Kuroo turned at Keiji’s dry response. His shoulders heaved, though his sigh was inaudible, and he moved forward too clumsily for a room he was so familiar with, crowding Keiji against the dishwasher.

This was it; he was trying to be intimidating, probably. Keiji inhaled, the smell of fresh cooking still clinging to Kuroo’s form, and bit the inside of their cheek. Kuroo looked down at them, the pulse points below his ears blotched red.

“You know, you’re making it really hard to be smooth about about this,” he told them, eyes roaming over their face.

Something inside Keiji broke painfully. They brought their hands to Kuroo’s chest, pushing hard, and Kuroo stumbled backwards - more easily than they’d expected him to move - eyes wide.

“Why do you have to be smooth?” they asked, keeping their words short and sharp to hide the tightness in their throat. It hurt to speak. “Isn’t it enough that you’re humiliating me? You could at least have the decency not to enjoy it.”

“...Wha…?” Kuroo’s voice was high pitched, condescending, oblivious, and Keiji’s lips pursed, face heating with anger.

“You don’t have to be subtle,” they told him, eager to be done with the conversation. “I’d been trying to keep my feelings for you and Bokuto a secret - I didn’t want them to affect our friendship - but clearly I didn’t, and it has. I knew you’d reject me, but I didn’t think you’d be so callous as to turn it into a game for the evening.”

“Akaashi…” Kuroo’s stunned utterance was joined by another one, slightly delayed, and Keiji’s stomach lurched, whirling around to see Bokuto in the doorway Kuroo had been standing in only minutes ago. His hand was halfway into the air and his mouth was open, staring at Keiji in - horror? They couldn’t read his expression. He blinked once, clearing his throat, and Keiji unfroze. The blood rushed, roaring, to their ears; they couldn’t hear anything either of them might have been saying. Their heart constricted, forcing its way into their throat, preventing them from speaking.

“Oh, god…” was what Keiji tried to say, but what came out was a garbled, broken moan, as they pushed their way past Bokuto and fled through the living room. They braced themself against the doorway, not bothering to untie their shoelaces as they forced their way into their shoes.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto had followed them the second they’d moved, and he reached out, grabbing their arm and making them stumble. He pulled his hand back, flinching as if they’d burned him, and Keiji winced.

God, it was one thing to have Kuroo mocking them, but to cause Bokuto so much pain… They hesitated. They owed him an explanation.

“Bokuto, I’m sorry…” they began, and Bokuto inhaled, shaking his head firmly.

“Don’t be sorry! You - uh, I’m sorry I heard, it sounds - you were being pretty loud and I wanted to see if you were okay, but…”

He’s stumbling on his words, anxious in a way that Keiji hasn’t seen him be since before he started dating Kuroo, and it hurts. Bokuto used to say that they grounded him, long before Kuroo had been anything more than a friend from tournaments, and now...everything had changed. Irreversibly, probably - they know how he can hold a grudge.

“It’s fine,” Keiji said. Their hand twitched, itching to reach for the door handle. “I should have told you sooner.”

“Well, uh, I get that - I would never had said anything,” Bokuto began, making Keiji cringe. He really didn’t want to know. “But I should - we should answer you, right? Come sit down, we can fix this - probably - or ignore it if -”

“Stop,” Keiji said sharply. Their chest felt tight, breaths coming short, and if they stayed there any longer they were going to have a panic attack. “I don’t want to do this.”

“What? But you  _ started  _ it...”

“So I’ll finish it,” Keiji told him, flushing further as they registered how parental they sounded. “Forget it. I need to… I’m going home. I’ll see you at practice, I guess.”

“Akaashi..!” 

Their name was a whine on Bokuto’s lips, but Keiji was already leaving, pulling the door shut behind him and moving on shaking legs towards the stairwell.

Keiji had imagined many ways that they could have confessed. They were too realistic to entertain the fantasy that they would be successful, but they had all been calm and collected, resulting in a healthy discussion of personal boundaries and respect for everyone’s feelings.

They never could have imagined fucking up this badly.

“Shit,” Keiji cursed, finally shaking themself out of their paralyzing embarrassment on the subway home. Beside them, an old woman glared, and they bowed their head in brief apology.

They’d never be able to face either of them again.


	2. "they'll keep this up indefinitely"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji tried to avoid their problems, but unfortunately, they had names and were more persistent than Keiji could ever be.

Consciousness pressed heavily onto Keiji’s chest, warmth and daylight burning through the window until they stirred beneath the duvet, heaving out a sigh. They hadn’t bothered to change from their sweatpants into their pajamas the night before, too caught up in embarrassment and self pity, and the fabric was clinging, damp, to their thighs. Scrambling to throw off their blankets, Keiji felt a creak in their joints that only came from too much sleep, and turned their head with a groan to check the time.

Two PM. Fuck, no wonder they were dehydrated.

Keiji stretched carefully, the pull of their muscles making them wince, and dragged themself out of bed, shuffling into a hoodie that Bokuto had left at their house without thinking. The size caught them off guard, and they froze when it fell too loosely over their shoulders, arms drowning comfortably in the sleeves. They took the hoodie off, searching through their wardrobe for a new one to wear; they weren’t going to submit to being a tragic cliche that easily.

It might be nice, though, to allow themself a day or two to wallow. Once they managed to stumble down the stairs, Keiji found a note left by their mother in the kitchen - she was away for the weekend, and hadn’t wanted to wake them that morning. She’d left the ingredients for pancakes, telling them to ‘treat themself’. They didn’t know if it was better or worse that she’d realised they were upset, despite them having put on a brave face in their ten minutes of interaction before bed.

At least, though, Keiji could tell themself they had permission to be a wreck for the weekend.

Switching the griddle on to warm up, they moved to where their phone was kept on charge overnight, turning it on to check their notifications. Keiji had long since learned that doing this was better than being woken up by midnight calls, and when the screen began to light up, buzzing violently, they were especially grateful for the routine.

_ You have 19 missed calls _ , their phone read. Swiping it away, Keiji’s inbox popped up next, showing sixteen messages from Bokuto, three from Kuroo, and one from Konoha.

They couldn’t deal with this just yet. Swallowing thickly, Keiji placed their phone back, face down on the counter, and set about brewing a pot of coffee. As they stirred in the milk, their phone started to buzz again, and they cringed, the vibration against the counter grating on them as if they were hungover.

That might be preferable. Keiji left their phone in the kitchen, curling up on their couch with the coffee and switching the TV on, flicking through the channels until they found a reality show - something mindless that could tune out their own thoughts.

Two days. That should be enough time for Keiji to process their feelings and design a solution. When Monday came, they would have practice, and Bokuto would surely be waiting for them.

The weekend passed in a blur, though, and by Sunday evening, when Keiji’s mother arrived home to find them wrapped up in their duvet on the couch, dark bags under their eyes and an empty tray of mochi clutched to their chest, they still had no idea how they would face Bokuto the next day.

“I don’t want him to pity me,” Keiji said, after a long moment of their mother watching them from the hallway. She moved into the room, resting a hand on their head, and massaged their scalp soothingly.

“Then don’t let him,” she said simply. Keiji’s mother was always busy, and they both felt uncomfortable having any sort of deep conversation - coming out as trans had used up a lifetime’s worth of emotional talks for both of them - but she knew what they wanted to hear, and would always do her best without prying. Keiji sighed, leaning into her hand, and closed their eyes.

The next day would be a long one, but if they could just make it through to practice, maybe they would be able to resolve things.

They should have known that Bokuto and Kuroo weren’t the type to give them time to prepare. For whatever reason, they’d avoided Keiji’s house over the weekend, possibly fearing their parents’ reactions to their constant phone calls. That was the only break Keiji was to be allowed, though, as Keiji discovered, abruptly jerking backwards around the corner when they caught sight of Kuroo leaning against the entrance to their first classroom, looking around furtively.

Kuroo wasn’t supposed to know their schedule. Had he hacked it, or just gleaned it from information given in their conversations? That seemed like too much, even for him, but they still had to deal with the fact that he was there. After a few minutes, they latched onto one of their classmates, starting up a conversation and slipping into the room by crouching awkwardly around his backpack.

“Are you alright?” Satoshi asked, peering at them once they’d made it inside. Keiji straightened up, unsure whether to be relieved that they’d avoided Kuroo or embarrassed at the desperation of the attempt. Keiji waved a dismissive hand, distracting Satoshi by asking him about the assignment.

Kuroo was there when they left, too, scanning the heads of Keiji’s classmates anxiously, his hair pushed out of his eyes for a better view. Keiji hoped he wasn’t skipping class for this, and went for a more straightforward tactic - hiding their face with their work folder. By the time Kuroo noticed their backpack they were almost out of the building, and Kuroo shouting their name did nothing to slow their pace.

It was Kuroo’s fault that they weren’t going to be able to go to practice. Keiji had formed a plan - to spend the day preparing a speech, use the momentum of practice to work off their anxiety and then approach Bokuto once it was over. Kuroo would come later - it’s not like he deserved an apology from them after the way he’d behaved. Now, though, they felt shaken, checking around every corner and hiding in the library for all of their breaks. Bokuto had been at their third class, asking everyone who went in the door if they’d seen Keiji, and there was nothing Keiji could do but turn on their heel, backing away before Bokuto had the chance to see them.

It was cowardice, maybe, but it was provoked. They’d been ready to deal with the consequences head on, even if it had meant losing them. Now they were determined to run for as long as it took to be able to begin the conversation on their own terms.

“What’s gotten into you?” Konoha asked on Tuesday afternoon, when they sank down into the booth of the coffee shop, off campus and far away from the windows, just like they’d requested. “You look like you’re being stalked.”

“I am,” Keiji said, looking at Konoha with exhausted eyes. They drank deeply from the coffee he’d bought them, relishing its warmth, even though they knew the caffeine would put them more on edge later. Konoha’s eyes widened, concerned, and Keiji shook their head. “More or less, anyway. It’s just Kuroo and Bokuto.”

“Ah,” Konoha said. “So that’s why they’ve been asking me where you are.”

Keiji winced. “Did you tell them?”

“No, I said they could go fuck themselves. I figured they’d know if you wanted them to. I have to ask, though...why the hiding? It’s not really like you, especially when it comes to those two…”

Konoha spoke with the long suffering disdain only a close friend could have. He’d often told Keiji that they spent too much time on Bokuto and Kuroo, especially if they weren’t going to do anything about their feelings. He said they were wasting the ‘prime’ of their life, and Keiji had never listened - they were content with how things were, even if they dreamed of more.

Now they wondered if he’d been right all along. They wrinkled their nose, taking another drink of coffee before summing up the events of Friday night.

“So now you’re...what?” Konoha asked, when he’d finally finished laughing at their misfortune. Keiji had let him, because they’d do the exact same thing if he’d told them the same situation had happened with Washio, but they were veering dangerously close to wallowing again. He’d better have some kind of pick-me-up. “Do you really think you can run away from them forever? You’ll never beat them in a battle of willpower.”

“I’m stubborn,” Keiji protested, and Konoha snorted.

“Yeah, but this is Bokuto and Kuroo. Stubborn doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Keiji laughed despite themself, smiling sadly into their cup. Konoha groaned, eyes rolling up toward the ceiling.

“God, you’re pathetic,” he said, throwing a paper napkin at his face. Keiji didn’t really have a response - it was true. “Get it sorted, Akaashi. I don’t want to listen to you whine again.”

Konoha would listen, Keiji knew, if they needed to, but he was right. They couldn’t avoid things forever.

No one was there at the start of their class the next morning, but Kuroo was waiting outside at the end, arms folded and legs apart, vigilant as though he was at war. As soon as he spotted Keiji he started to move, and then stopped again when he realised Keiji wasn’t running, looking almost disappointed that he didn’t get to pursue.

“Uh...hi,” Kuroo said when Keiji approached him sullenly, obviously not having expected to get this far. It didn’t look like he’d had anything prepared. Good; that put them both on equal footing.

“I wanted to speak to Bokuto-san, first…” Keiji said, watching Kuroo’s expression carefully. Kuroo stiffened, nose wrinkling, and took a second to respond. He nodded, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, fingers exacerbating the mess of hair on his head.

“That makes sense, I guess…” he said, tone flat despite his smile. “We can wait for him somewhere, but I’m not gonna let you out of my sight in case you run again.”

“I’m not a criminal, Kuroo,” Keiji said, and Kuroo just raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was a crime to keep Bokuto hanging for this long. “I’ll come with you, though. Glitch?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kuroo nodded, waiting for Keiji to walk ahead of him before following. Keiji would have been offended at his mistrust, but they supposed they’d done nothing to earn it recently. The realisation sat heavy in their gut, biting the inside of their cheek as the reality of their childishness sunk in.

This is why they usually preferred to act on things directly. They’d forgotten that the temporary relief of living in denial was never worth the additional consequences of putting off the inevitable.

Kuroo’s hands were in his pockets, and as Keiji slowed to fall into step with him they saw that his gaze was kept firmly on the ground. It was unlike him, and not the wisest decision on Tokyo’s crowded streets. They grabbed his sleeve, tugging him until he looked up at them and pulling him into an alleyway.

“What..?” Kuroo asked, the hand Keiji hadn’t pulled on still firmly in his pockets. Keiji pursed their lips.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you,” they told him. “Please don’t misunderstand. I just think that it would be easier for everyone if I got to speak to Bokuto first. He’s the one who knows the least.”

“Is he?” Kuroo sounded like he was sulking, but he could have been teasing again, Keiji couldn’t tell. They exhaled through their nose, impatient. “I think we’re all on some level of cluelessness, here.”

“I was very clear with you, Kuroo. You’re the one who decided to turn it into some kind of game.”

“Turn  _ what _ into a game, Akaashi? I was trying my best to - well - I just wanted to see if…”

“My feelings aren’t something to experiment with.” They could feel themself getting angry again, and this was exactly why they’d wanted to talk to Bokuto first. Kuroo got them worked up like no one else could, and Bokuto was grounding, compassionate - someone who made them better. Still, Kuroo wasn’t exactly being compassionate towards them, either; without Bokuto, they both became baser versions of themselves, driven to trivial arguments. “You don’t have to see anything about them. Just talk to me honestly - don’t mock me just because you have what I want.”

“Because I have… do you really think I’d do that?” now, Kuroo seemed genuinely hurt, and Keiji shrunk back a little against the wall. “God, I’m not that petty - that’s your style. I wanted to give you my blessing, or something.”

Keiji had been looking away, flushed and ashamed, but when Kuroo finished their eyes snapped up to his. “Your blessing?”

“With Bokuto,” Kuroo clarified. “He’d never man up and do it himself, even though we’d talked about it, and I knew  _ you’d _ never say anything if you thought it was going to hurt me, so...I thought I’d cut out the middleman.”

“By...hitting on me?” Keiji asked, and Kuroo grimaced, messing up his hair again.

“Okay, I admit, that probably wasn’t the best way...but I wanted to be smooth about it! And well, uh, it was a little bit of an indulgence for myself, too…” He shrugged, “I’m sorry about that - or at least, what it resulted in. You weren’t supposed to run away. I knew you were jealous that I ‘had’ Bokuto, or however you saw it, but I didn’t think you’d be that hurt be me...” he tailed off, embarrassed, and Keiji shook themself, trying to get their bearings.

Kuroo had wanted to tell them that they could make a move on Bokuto. At least, that’s what it seemed like he was saying. He thought they were jealous of him because he was with Bokuto…

...and not because they were with each other.

Keiji clenched their fists, inhaling deeply. They’d been a coward for nearly a week; they couldn’t be one again.

“It’s - not just Bokuto that I like,” they said. The words hung in the air between them. For the first time, Keiji noticed that the concrete beneath their shoes was dirty, stained with smoke and miscellaneous unrecognisable substances. They screwed up their nose, scuffing the toe of their shoe against the ground to see if it will come off. “I thought you knew, and that’s why you were teasing me. I like both of you. I wanted - want - to be with both of you. You were showing me that I could never have that.”

Keiji kept their gaze to the floor, bracing themself when they heard Kuroo’s sharp intake of breath. He took two steps towards them, his shadow looming tall over them, and took one of Keiji’s hands with his own. Keiji looked up, brows furrowed in half formed confusion, and Kuroo cupped the back of their neck with his other hand, studying their face.

Kuroo’s expression was unreadable. Not closed off as it tended to be when he wanted to hide his emotions, but full of too many things, so many that Keiji couldn’t identify a single one. It made them think of Bokuto.

“Oh my  _ god _ , Akaashi,” Kuroo said, exasperated, and he closed the gap between them, fitting his mouth against Keiji’s in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! more to come, hopefully before the week ends. find me on [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice)


	3. time elapsed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took Keiji 0.5 seconds to react to Kuroo kissing them.

It took Keiji 0.5 seconds to react to Kuroo kissing them.

Kuroo’s lips were bitten and chapped, fitting around Keiji’s like they belonged there but with a little too much force. Keiji’s head bumped against the brick wall behind them, a sharp sting reverberating through their skull. Their eyes were wide open, but Kuroo’s were shut tight, and his brows were furrowed; if Keiji wasn’t being kissed right now, they might have thought that he was angry. The palm at the back of their neck was warm and sticky with sweat, fingertips digging a little too harshly into their skin, and they could feel the rough edges of Kuroo’s fingernails. Keiji wanted to file them. They considered their options.

They could push him away. That’s what Keiji had done last time, and Kuroo hadn’t been nearly as close. Honestly, the whole situation still felt like an elaborate prank; like Kuroo was going to burst into laughter when he opened his eyes, and perhaps Bokuto would come around the corner, too, to make it all the more humiliating. They could push him away, and they could tell him to stop, and it would never come up again.

Keiji had seen the frustration on Kuroo’s face in the second before his eyes closed, though, and it had almost completely mirrored their own. The emotion was too painful and familiar to be completely feigned, and Keiji was tired of being wary. They’d insulted Kuroo enough; they owed him their trust.

Besides, it might be the only chance they had to experience this. If this was a prank - or if it wasn’t, and it was just Kuroo trying to let them know in some way that he acknowledged their feelings even if he didn’t accept them - then Kuroo would never kiss them again after this one time. Keiji’s fingers twitched at their sides, but they wouldn’t move; the circumstances were less than ideal and they might be inviting further embarrassment, but the draw of having something - someone - they’d dreamed of so close was too alluring to resist.

They could - god, and their breath hitched to even consider it - return the kiss. Kuroo’s hand, clammy as it was, felt like an anchor, and Keiji itched to push their fingers through his hair, to soothe his lips with their own. They could close their eyes and cherish the three to five seconds that Kuroo would give them, forgetting all of the things that could come next.

Only, they couldn’t forget. If they returned the kiss and Kuroo was joking, they were done. There was no way they were coming back from this, no matter what option they took. They couldn’t take the hope being ripped from them like that, and it would be the end of all things for them, and probably between them and Bokuto, too. Bokuto wouldn’t forgive them for kissing Kuroo, even if Kuroo had been messing with them, and they wouldn’t be able to explain themself. They weren’t sure they could, anyway.

Or Kuroo might want this; he might be being sincere, and they would go to Glitch and sit at their usual table to wait for Bokuto, and then Keiji would have to confess all over again, and...Bokuto would be hurt that this had happened; appalled at Keiji’s hidden feelings. He’d feel taken advantage of, he’d hate the idea of sharing Kuroo - of sharing himself, and Kuroo wouldn’t want to risk what they had together, and Keiji would be left out in the cold again. Of course, they’d get over it, and they’d go back to being friends, but they’d never be as close or intimate; Bokuto would never welcome them into his family again.

Of course, there was the chance that everything would go fine, and by the end of the day they’d be happy together, but Keiji didn’t dare to hope for that. The odds were against them, and their week-long avoidance certainly wouldn’t work for them in terms of karma. If that was going to happen, it would have by now, surely? Bokuto would have picked up on their careful confessions in high school.

Their third option, one which almost made them laugh, ugly and choking, into Kuroo’s mouth, came straight from a porn film that they’d seen in their teens. It was extremely unrealistic, and Keiji was certain that neither of them wanted to end this day in a jail cell for indecent exposure, but they allowed themself 0.1 seconds to play out the fantasy in their head, because if anything, its ludicrousness soothed their nerves.

None of the options seemed appealing, but Keiji’s hands had already begun to move by the time they’d evaluated them, and the glimmer of hope that their second option held, fragile and blinding, drove them to action.

Their lips parted, inhaling deeply through their nose, and they kissed him back.

Kuroo made a noise, something between relief and frustration that reverberated through Keiji’s chest, and their hands finally settled on the back of his head, pulling him close and holding him there, scared he could pull away at any second. Their mouth worked clumsily against his, any experience they’d gathered seeping out of their memory because this was  _ Kuroo _ , so it was different, and - god, they were such a romantic - it was  _ special. _

Keiji’s eyes closed, and they understood immediately why Kuroo’s had been shut so fiercely. In the darkness, with only Kuroo’s lips and hair and smell in their senses, they could almost have pretended that they weren’t fighting; that things weren’t as fragile as they were.

After a few moments, Kuroo slowed, making to pull away, and Keiji gripped him tighter for a second. The smallest of whines escaped their lips as their brow furrowed, desperate to keep the contact, before they caught themself, flushing as they let go of Kuroo abruptly. Kuroo scanned their face, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, and his hand drifted from Keiji’s neck to their elbow, resting their lightly. Keiji shivered despite themself, biting their lip which still stung from the harsh kiss and keeping their eyes downcast.

“Akaashi,” Kuroo said again, but he didn’t sound exasperated this time, just - stunned. Keiji looked up, trying to read his face. “Oh my god, Akaashi - you like  _ both  _ of us? This whole time, you liked us both?”

“I…” Their stomach twisted, anxious, but they were tired of dodging. It wasn’t like they could deny anything now, anyway. “Yes. For a while now.”

Kuroo exhaled, blowing out a long puff of air that tickled Keiji’s nose. They waited for him to say something, but he just stared at them, his hand still on their elbow. Did they have to carry the conversation now? Kuroo still owed them an explanation - parts of what he’d told them didn’t add up.

“I don’t understand how you thought what you did on Friday would tell me that it was alright to pursue Bokuto, but even if I’d known that, I still would have been hurt. You really weren’t aware of my feelings for you?”

Kuroo shook his head silently, and Keiji nodded in response. They had no idea what he was thinking, besides shock. Why had he kissed them? Was it out of pity? Some strange way of telling them to make things work with Bokuto all the same? Or…?

“Do you have feelings for me?” Keiji asked, their breath catching in their throat. Kuroo looked as though they’d shone a spotlight on him - his hair stuck up at odd angles and his eyes were wide and scared. It was hard for Keiji to tell which of them felt more vulnerable at that moment.

“I-” Kuroo began, and then tried again, coughing. “Yeah, Akaashi. I like you. When I realised you still liked Kou - that your high school crush hadn’t faded...I wanted to help you both, but god, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why it was making me so sad.”

“Bokuto’s your boyfriend,” Keiji said plainly. That was obvious, but Kuroo shook his head.

“That wasn’t it. Kou’s got the biggest heart in the world - you know that, of course you do - and I was sure he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise what we have. I didn’t feel threatened. I was excited, actually, thinking about what it would be like for Kou to have so much love, and finally being able to talk about how it is to love him with you… but I watched you watching him, the way you always have, and suddenly…” Kuroo tailed off, tugging on his fringe like Keiji had seen him do when working on a particularly tough chemistry problem. “...I realised that I wanted you to look at me like that, too. I wanted to be part of things. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“I  _ was  _ looking at you,” Keiji pointed out. Kuroo screwed up his nose at them with a hint of childish humour.

“Well, I didn’t see it,” he replied, and Keiji laughed. Their limbs felt heavy and their head ached, exhausted. Was this really happening? Kuroo smiled, lopsided and wry, and then he was laughing too, tightening his grip on Keiji and pulling them into a close hug. Kuroo had been sweating, but Keiji rested their head easily against his shoulder, sighing through their nose.

“...I’m just glad we’re still friends,” they admitted, and Kuroo snorted.

“What? You though a little one-or-two sided pining would get in the way of this trio?” he asked, amused, and patted Keiji’s back. “No way. Kou would have locked us in a closet until we kissed and made up...or something.”

Keiji didn’t think they’d ever been so relieved to hear Kuroo’s rough edged humour. 

“Right,” they agreed, laughing tiredly, and then. “Oh, shit. Bokuto.”

“Yes…?” Kuroo looked at them curiously when they pulled away, the anxiety from the morning beginning to resurface, tightening their gut. “What about him?”

“How much does he know?” Keiji asked. Realisation dawned and Kuroo’s face fell, arms falling to hang loose at his side.

“Shit,” Kuroo echoed. “I have no idea. He hasn’t said anything at all, not even about Friday, other than that he misses you and that we’ve all got to fix things. He’s probably clueless...he wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet about it. He didn’t even ask me what I did in the kitchen.”

“We need to tell him,” Keiji said. They thought again about Bokuto’s single-minded devotion, wondering if they’d breached his trust.

“Of course,” Kuroo spoke without hesitation, something that Keiji couldn’t claim for themself, and they felt a surge of admiration for him. That was why he and Bokuto were so good for one another. “That was always the plan: to give you the go ahead, and then knock your heads together. Only it turned out that my head needed a bit of knocking, too. Who’d have thought?”

Keiji snorted. “How are you so calm about this?”

“How are you not?” Kuroo responded. “This is Kou. You’re the scary one, Akaashi. The hard part’s over.”

Keiji hummed, disbelieving and Kuroo smiled at them, holding out his hand expectantly. His face was warm and open; all the stress had vanished from it, like their kiss and conversation had had the same effect as twelve hours of sleep. It was adorable, somehow, and their shoulders relaxed a little, but their heart was still pounding even as they took Kuroo’s hand, squeezing it.

Dread settled in their stomach as they walked towards the coffee shop with Kuroo, still holding his hand. Despite what everyone said about Keiji’s ability to read him, Bokuto always found a way to surprise them. They couldn’t share Kuroo’s optimism about the hard part being over, not when they weren’t even sure where they would begin, or whether they could look Bokuto in the eye.

They still had a long way to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i miss bokuto :( luckily there'll be a lot of him in the next chapter. find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice) and [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com).
> 
>  
> 
> also, a quick note to say thank you to kep for beta-ing these chapters at lightning speed, despite working so hard on exams. i appreciate it more than i can say ♥


	4. the ecology of bokuto-san

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A coffee shop discussion of boundaries; Bokuto finally got to have his say.

Keiji’s fingers drummed restlessly against the hard wood of the coffee shop table, and they stared into their drink, wondering if they should have considered their anxious stomach and ordered something with less caffeine. Kuroo had no such qualms, gazing fondly at Keiji over the rim of his mug of hot chocolate, blowing on it gently. He was content to stay silent as they waited for Bokuto, and Keiji was grateful, because they couldn’t think of anything to say. Kuroo was eager to have this conversation; to share the news and get to the ‘good part, with too much cuddling’, but Keiji’s knee bounced beneath the table, still eager to make an escape.

“Relax, Akaashi,” Kuroo said calmly, and then laughed when Keiji jumped at the sound of his voice. “It’s gonna be fine. Even if it’s not now, it will be. You should be happy.”

Keiji said nothing. They didn’t believe in celebrating too soon.

The chime of the shop’s doorbell made them both look up, and Keiji felt a cold sweat take over them when they saw Bokuto as he paused to catch his breath by the counter. He scanned the room fervently, chest heaving and dark stains on the pits of his t-shirt, and froze when his eyes met Keiji’s. 

He’d obviously run to the coffeeshop. Keiji imagined him getting Kuroo’s text, wondering if he’d left in the middle of his class - he got here far quicker than they’d expected, and there was no way he would have been able to keep quiet for the last fifteen minutes of his lecture. Bokuto slowed his pace to a saunter as he approached them, though, aiming for casual as he slung his bag over the side of his chair before sinking down into it and wiping the sweat from his face. He leaned over, grazing Kuroo with a kiss on the cheek, and Kuroo mumbled a greeting, some of the ease and optimism fading from his face. All eyes turned to Keiji.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said, nodding. Keiji gripped their coffee tighter, lifting it in an attempt to force their hands to steady.

“Bokuto.”

There was a loud crash as Bokuto slammed his hands on the table, and coffee spilled from Keiji’s cup onto their shaking fingers as they flinched backward, startled. Bokuto was halfway out of his chair, and Kuroo had followed him immediately, simultaneously trying to snatch his own hand out of the way of Bokuto’s palms and reach reassuringly for his arm. Bokuto’s expression changed immediately from one of fierce anger to one of horror, and he shook Kuroo off, lowering himself back into his seat like a child that had just been scolded. He shoved his hands under the table, and Keiji pictured his fingernails digging into his thighs. They swallowed, and their chest grew tighter when Bokuto spoke again, his voice smaller and more fragile.

“‘Kaashi…”

“I’m sorry,” Keiji said, putting their cup down. Whatever happened next, an apology had to come first, they knew. They couldn’t let Bokuto think that they had no regrets. “I shouldn’t have avoided you like this...and I shouldn’t have run out on Friday. I know you wanted to talk; I was acting selfishly and impulsively.”

Keiji cringed at how rehearsed their apology sounded - and was, because they’re practiced the phrasing a million times at home - but Bokuto didn’t seem to notice, forcing a laugh to break the silence that followed.

“It’s fine, Akaashi, god, I can’t get mad at someone for being selfish and impulsive, can I?” He said. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes fixed firmly on the table, and Keiji bit the inside of their lip, hating that they’d played right into Bokuto’s insecurities. “You let me off the hook for stupid shit like this all the time, so…”

“No,” Keiji said firmly, and Bokuto looked up, surprised. Kuroo was carefully quiet, letting them sort this part out by themselves, considerate as always. “You have every right to be angry with me. You opened yourself up for communication and I shut you down, and continued to do that when you repeatedly gave me more chances. I caused you a lot of unnecessary pain, and it wasn’t even you that I was mad at…that’s unfair, and you deserve an apology.”

“What, really?” Bokuto’s brow furrowed. Keiji cast a side glance at Kuroo, who was focused on his hot chocolate.

“Of course, Bokuto. You didn’t do anything; none of this was your fault.”

There was a long silence as Bokuto processed what Keiji was saying, clearly struggling. Keiji didn’t know whether Bokuto’s inflated sense of responsibility was left over from his time as their captain or came from somewhere else. They wished they could dissolve it, though; it was one of the things that put the greatest distance between them.

Bokuto sucked on his teeth, nodding slowly, and Keiji allowed themself to breathe again. At least they knew he wouldn’t blame himself.

“Alright…” he said, drawing out the word. Bokuto’s face was as transparent as always, and Keiji could see his perceptions shifting, looking at Keiji with a new sense of suspicion. “So you’re saying you were an asshole for no reason?”

Keiji and Kuroo winced simultaneously, and Keiji fumbled, unprepared for such a sharp statement. 

“Well - I wouldn’t say there was no reason, exactly-”

“Then what?” Bokuto interrupted them, his voice tight and pained. He sounded sad, but there was a flash behind his eyes that set Keiji on edge. Kuroo must have noticed too, because he wasn’t focusing on his drink anymore, and he’d shifted in his seat - though whether he was preparing to move away from or towards Bokuto, Keiji couldn’t tell. “If I didn’t do anything, but you had a reason to be so - not like  _ you…  _ What the hell was it? Come on, Akaashi, help me. I’m confused.”

Keiji closed their eyes, breathing out. In the darkness, they could hear the sound of other students in the coffee shop, talking about schoolwork and their own personal dramas. No one cared about what they and Kuroo and Bokuto were experiencing, and even if Bokuto caused a scene and stormed out of the coffee shop, they’d all move on. Their emotions and all of this build up would just be a story for them to tell their friends.

When they opened their eyes, Bokuto was still staring at them, trying his best to wait patiently for an answer but practically vibrating with the tension. Keiji wondered if he was concerned about frightening them. That would be typical of him, to contain all of his anger until it was impossible to contain anymore in the name of ‘protecting’ those he loved. They wanted to see it, though, to be sure that this was real.

Keiji opened their mouth and then closed it again. What they’d prepared didn’t work anymore, not after their conversation with Kuroo. To be so open about their feelings after shoving them aside for years was disconcerting, and their tongue felt heavy, unwilling to part with their secrets.

Kuroo kicked them hard in the shin, and they yelped, surprised. It was the jumpstart they needed, and they reluctantly opened their mouth

“You heard what I said on Friday, didn’t you?”

The anger disappeared from Bokuto’s face, and he looked downwards, mumbling uncomfortably, his hands still tucked firmly beneath the table.

“It’s - well, I didn’t hear all of it, and I don’t want to…” Bokuto chewed nervously on his lip, and Keiji understood. They’d want to hear it again, too, if they were him. 

“That’s okay. I can repeat it. I should, anyway...that wasn’t the way I ever intended to tell you,” they told him. Bokuto watched them, eyes wide, waiting for them to speak. They felt so exposed, and tried to remember the feeling of listening to everyone’s conversations. There were only two people that mattered to them, here.

“I like you, Bokuto - and Kuroo too. I have for a long time, and I’ve been envious of the relationship you have together. Not because you’ve ever made me feel left out, but because I wanted - I want - to be a part of it in a way I never thought was possible. I kept this from you because I treasure what we have, and I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, but on Friday… I snapped, and it came out in the worst way possible. I thought that Kuroo knew, and he was teasing me, and I got angry and emotional. I took that out on you...when you said we could ignore it, I...felt humiliated.”

Keiji had never spent this much time in one day talking about their feelings with people, and it was exhausting. They couldn’t even filter themself anymore, too eager for everything to be over. After a few moments with no response, they dragged their gaze upwards to look at Bokuto’s reaction, but his attention was on Kuroo, jaw set firmly.

“And what about you, Tetsu?”

Kuroo blinked, as if he hadn't expected to be brought into the conversation at all, and Keiji felt a small surge of vindictive pleasure rise in them. They had known that they were going to bear the brunt of this, but it was satisfying, after Kuroo's fucked up way of showing his affection, to see him called out.

"What?" Kuroo asked, in what was presumably an attempt to play innocent. Bokuto groaned, and it became clear that they'd had similar exchanges many times before. It was a fight without any real heat behind it, and neither of them feared the consequences of pushing too far. Keiji envied them.

"Tetsu," Bokuto said emphatically, the power behind his tone enough to make Kuroo's cheeks colour with shame. "You were the one who upset Akaashi. You made me them feel bad about liking us - no wonder they ran away for so long. I’d do the same, and you would too."

Keiji bit their lip, but before the thought could even enter their mind, Bokuto shot them a look.

"That doesn't mean that it's okay," he said quickly. More often than not, it was Bokuto who ended up reading them, despite what everyone said. "I'm just... you did something, Tetsu, and you knew I thought it was my fault, but you didn't say anything..? You wouldn't even tell me what happened in the kitchen."

"You didn't ask," Kuroo replied, defensive. The more Bokuto said your name in a conversation, the guiltier you felt; it was as though he could channel every ounce of his pain into the enunciation. Keiji empathised, but didn't feel merciful. "You were so quiet, I didn't want to... and I figured you should sort things out with Akaashi, first. I was waiting for that."

"You were waiting for Akaashi to tell me what you did?" Bokuto asked, tone skeptical, and Kuroo grimaced, struggling for a response. "That's a dumb idea, Tetsu. Really dumb. You should have told me your side of the story...then at least I'd know something."

Keiji tried to imagine how Bokuto might have felt in the last week, knowing that both his boyfriend and best friend were keeping secrets. The fact that he hadn't immediately reacted to their confession had thrown them off, but they wanted to be patient, and it was understandable that he needed time to process. He must have been so lost, and Keiji knew that they weren't doing anything to help that feeling right now.

"I'm sorry, Kou," Kuroo said eventually, his tone sullen, but genuine. No one wanted Bokuto to be hurt - that had been exactly what they were trying to avoid. Bokuto pursed his lips, drumming his fingers on the table, making a show of thinking it through.

"You didn't even wait, did you..?" Bokuto asked, and this time Keiji's own expression matched Kuroo's caught one. "Like, it's pretty obvious that you know something. You weren't surprised by what Akaashi was saying at all... and still no one's told me what happened in the kitchen!" 

"I..." Keiji began, looking at Kuroo, and Kuroo raised his hands in surrender.

"Akaashi was trying to be kind to me, I think... I've got some stuff to tell you too, Kou. Nothing we haven't talked about before, but apparently I'm really bad at expressing myself, so maybe it's going to be more new to you than I thought."

Keiji sat back at that point, eager to hear the story as Kuroo told it to Bokuto. Their conversation had been heated and emotional, and Kuroo, though sincere, had been trying to convince them to stay and listen to him. With Bokuto, there would be no such boundaries; their relationship had weathered far too many storms for Kuroo to do anything other than admit his mistakes. Bokuto turned towards Kuroo, ready to listen, and Keiji felt with dismay the cold angle of his shoulder as he faced away from them.

"I've been telling you for ages that Akaashi likes you," Kuroo began. Bokuto stayed silent and Keiji closed their throat even as their mouth opened, stopping any sound of surprise from escaping them. They couldn't interrupt now. "They're so obvious about it...but maybe you thought I was teasing. That time you got all flustered and then locked yourself in the bathroom for half an hour...well, after that, I figured out you like them, too."

Keiji's eyes snapped to Bokuto, but he was still angled away from them, and they could only see half of his face. His attention was fixed entirely on Kuroo, and it was impossible to tell if the pink on his neck and cheekbone was due to embarrassment or just the intensity of the situation. Kuroo stretched out in his seat, avoiding both of their gazes.

"I love you, Kou, and I know you love me. It didn't make me sad - well, kind of, that you didn't tell me, but I get it, it's not exactly the most conventional thing to talk about with your boyfriend. I wanted to help, though... I love it when you're happy. When Akaashi's happy, too. That's all I was trying to do."

It took all of Keiji's strength to restrain from commenting on the poor job Kuroo had done of that, allowing themself only a small snort of derision. Bokuto and Kuroo both shot them a dirty look, but Kuroo's was tinged with embarassment, and Keiji thought that it was worth it. They kept quiet, and when Kuroo was satisfied that they weren't going to say anything, he continued.

"So... I started thinking about how I could get you together. Kou, you clearly weren't going to say anything to me or Akaashi - I wasn't even sure if you were aware of how you felt for them, to be honest - and Akaashi's so proper... I figured I could give my blessing, or something. It was when I was thinking about that that I kind of realised..." Kuroo paused, cheeks coloured, looking between Bokuto and Akaashi and tugging on his fringe. "I like Akaashi too... and the idea of watching you two together hurt, even though I’d still have you, Kou."

"Huh," Bokuto said. His eyebrows were raised, and he was staring at Kuroo with a calculating gaze that set Keiji on edge. It wasn't often that they saw that look on Bokuto's face off the court. Slowly, Bokuto's eyes moved to look at Keiji, and they felt themself heating, glued to their seat. Their neck felt hot and sticky, remembering dreams of those eyes fixed on them in this exact way, but in a much more private and intimate setting. "So Friday was you trying to, uh, make a triangle...?"

"I'm getting to that," said Kuroo, almost snapping. Keiji began to pity him a little more, seeing how much stress he was under, and they stretched their leg under the table, knocking his ankle lightly with their own. Kuroo looked up, surprised, and his shoulders relaxed slightly before he spoke again. "I didn't think I could do that. I didn't - well, Akaashi's already said how they felt but that was news to me, I didn't know before today, we talked on the way here... So I just wanted to make you both happy. But I thought I'd have some fun with it while I was at it, maybe see if there was any chance I could get a little bit of the action...or at least a pretense of it."

"Wow," Keiji said, unable to hold back. Kuroo grimaced.

"Yeah, I know, it was messed up. Kind of pathetic, really, looking back on it, but I was feeling sorry for myself."

"Even though you were the one who decided you couldn't have anything," Bokuto pointed out. Kuroo turned to him, mouth working for a moment, and then sagged. 

Kuroo clearly hadn't thought about it that way, Keiji realised. Bokuto was the only one who could make such obvious observations without sounding patronising.

"Yeah," Kuroo said. "Wow. That was really stupid."

He drank the last of his hot chocolate, nose buried deep in the mug, and there was a long silence. Keiji could almost feel themself floating out of their body, the pounding in their chest too much to bear. The way Bokuto had been talking...they couldn't allow themself to have hope, but it was there despite themself, rising in their throat and holding them captive.

"This is...a lot," Bokuto spoke eventually with a sigh. He was staring at the table, and his hands had moved to grip the sides of his seat. Kuroo nodded sympathetically, and Keiji tried to do the same, but their movement was jerky and stiff. "You both did a lot. And you talked before I got here, right? On the way, that’s what you said, Tetsu."

"We weren't planning to -" Kuroo began, and Bokuto cut him off with a quick shake of the head.

"No, no, I'm not...not mad at you for that - mad would be the wrong word anyway, I guess, but like...it's fine. It makes sense, you guys had to sort out your - uh - misunderstanding, and it's not like you could sit here in awkward silence until I got here, is it?" Bokuto laughed, and it was so obvious that he was forcing himself that Keiji wanted to reach out and hug him. They knew that wouldn't be wise, though, not before they knew how he felt.

"Tetsu, it sounds like you've got something planned..." Bokuto said, looking at him. "Are you just waiting for me to say that I like Akaashi too, and then everything will be fine?"

Keiji's breath caught in their throat. They felt helpless, stuck to the chair and unable to speak. They couldn't bear to look at Bokuto, and only caught Kuroo's shrug out of the corner of their eye.

"Kind of, yeah..." Kuroo said. "It's optimistic maybe, but I'm the one who fucked things up. It shouldn't get in the way of your feelings."

"Akaashi fucked up too," Bokuto said. "And neither of you felt like you could talk to me about this, so I feel kind of responsible too."

"That's ridiculous, Bokuto -" Keiji found their voice to speak harshly. When Bokuto looked at them, his eyes were wet. Keiji was disoriented - they could hardly keep up with what was going on right now.

"Is it?" he asked. "You say you've liked me for a long time, but you've never felt comfortable enough to tell me. Tetsu was going to sacrifice his own happiness for mine, and didn't even want me to know that he was doing it...and then neither of you were willing to tell me what you'd done wrong for a whole week? There's got to be a reason for it. Did you think I'd overreact? Do you think now you've said sorry and explained everything that last week just...doesn't count anymore?"

Shame washed over Keiji, dragging their gaze back to the floor, and the sound of Bokuto's ragged inhalation pulled on their heartstrings. He was right, of course, and quoting their own words back at them, learned from years of misunderstandings and miscommunication. They had been hypocritical, and they'd known it the whole time, but hearing Bokuto point it out so clearly was like a shot to the stomach.

"I'm sorry," they said, knowing that they'd already said that, that he'd just told them that it wouldn't help, but not having anything better to say.

"I know," Bokuto said. His lower lip wobbled, and Kuroo dragged his chair over to Bokuto's side, not caring about the grating sound it made against the hardwood floor as he draped himself over Bokuto's shoulder, pressing their cheeks together.

"We're terrible at this," Kuroo said, tone flat despite the attempt at humour. "We fucked up big time, and we should have trusted you - and ourselves, really, because I think that's who we were actually looking down on, Kou, not you. We can't change what we did, and it's gonna take a long time to sort everything out properly, but could you at least tell us whether you're willing to do that with us? You haven't even told Akaashi you like them yet."

Keiji jerked. The more they heard it, the more they felt as though it could be real. They snapped, "Stop that, Kuroo." 

At the same time, Bokuto turned his face towards Kuroo, his nose digging into Kuroo's cheeks as he opened his mouth in surprise. "I haven't?"

Kuroo laughed, a release of tension that washed through all of them, and Keiji realised that they'd been experiencing everything in slow motion as their surroundings began to gain speed again. They stared at Bokuto, so close to Kuroo now that they almost looked like one person.

"You like me?" They asked. Bokuto nodded vigorously.

"Fuck, I can't believe I forgot to say that first..." he said, running his hand through his hair. Kuroo slapped him on the back, still laughing. "That must have sucked for you, Akaashi, waiting to hear it. Oh, man..."

Keiji bit their lip. Kuroo's laugh rang loud in their ears, and Bokuto's sheepish grin sent them spinning. Had he done it on purpose? He seemed genuine, and no one else would think Bokuto capable, but... 

"You like me," Keiji repeated. If he was playing them, they deserved it, and it was hardly worth thinking about when he was telling them what they'd wanted to hear since Bokuto had graduated from high school.

"I like you," Bokuto confirmed. “We’ve gotta… I don’t know, we’ve definitely gotta do something about all of this, but… in terms of feelings, it’s pretty simple. We all want the same thing.”

Bokuto’s words settled in Keiji’s chest, relief and hope blossoming in their chest. His eyes were warm and earnest, and beside him, Kuroo was looking at them smugly, though the way his fingers tightened around Bokuto’s bicep betrayed his excitement. Keiji smiled, breath they didn’t know they’d been holding escaping their lips.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to kep for beta - now that BAK week is over i'm planning on updating fortnightly for the remaining three chapters, so i hope you stay with me! find me on [tumblr ](http://deciduice.tumblr.com)or [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice).


	5. pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-san

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things should have been resolved, and yet Keiji still found themself holding back. Kuroo has always been an enabler.

Now, Akaashi had been staying at Bokuto and Kuroo’s house for a week - ever since their conversation at Glitch. Their parents worked late and often travelled, so a text every few days was enough to reassure their mother that they were safe. She was hardly surprised when they’d asked if they could spend the first night at the flat, asking if their problem had been solved and congratulating them briefly.

“Look after yourself, Keiji,” she had told them, a brief moment of tenderness in her voice before she hung up. It had warmed Keiji’s heart, and since then they hadn’t felt the need to find reasons to avoid going home.

“You should just move in here,” Bokuto said on the fourth night, and Keiji laughed, flushing, because all three of them knew that he was only half joking.

Nothing had been completely resolved after they all had confirmed their feelings for one another, and Keiji told themself that that was the reason that they were spending so much time together. They had to get a feel for one another’s boundaries - to shift the dynamic between them carefully, and establish trust again. On the first night, they’d insisted on sleeping on the couch, cramming themself between the arms and dozing uncomfortably until Bokuto had charged in from the bedroom, picking Keiji up his arms and dumping them on the bed between himself and Kuroo. Keiji had been mortified, but Kuroo didn’t allow them the chance to escape, wrapping his arms around them so that he and Bokuto could pepper them with kisses until they gave up, too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

The atmosphere was stumbling, but hopeful. Feather-light kisses landed on Keiji’s cheek and neck until they turned their mouth into them, capturing the perpetrator's lips. Rushed reassurances followed awkward apologies, and they carefully figured out how to move around one another again, now that everything was the same but somehow different. Kuroo was by far the most comfortable, pushing through barriers and backing off without a trace of embarrassment, and Keiji watched him own his mistakes with envy, wondering what it must be like not to feel the self-imposed pressure Keiji and Bokuto applied to themselves.

“I know that neither of you would give up on me that easily,” Kuroo told them, one evening when Keiji was settled in his lap, grilling him quietly. “You and Kou are too scared of being pushed out. That’s weird, to me - we’ve already gotten past that bit.”

“Have we?” Keiji asked softly, brushing aside Kuroo’s fringe with their thumb so that they could see his eyes. He smiled at them, shrugging.

“We’ve said how we feel, and we all made the agreement to try,” he explained as if it was obvious. “It’s too late to back out now. None of us were quitters, and if you were going to push me out you would have done it at Glitch. Same goes for me and Kou.”

Put that way, it seemed simple, and when Kuroo tilted their head down to kiss them, mouth already parted to deepen it, that was exactly how it felt. They stayed together for what felt like hours, and when Bokuto got back from the gym he wasted no time in joining them, shedding his shirt and crawling over the couch so that he could slip in beside Kuroo. He wrapped an arm around each of them, kissing Kuroo’s neck, and then pulled Keiji in closer to suck on their lip. They huffed, nose screwing up in distaste.

“You stink,” they commented, and Bokuto just laughed, making himself comfortable in the tangle the three of them had become.

“It’s a good stink, though,” he said, waggling his eyebrows when Kuroo buried his nose in Bokuto’s neck. “Pheromones.”

“I taught you that word,” Kuroo mumbled, so close to Bokuto that Keiji could barely make out the words.

“Yeah, because you’re so hot for it,” Bokuto retorted. Kuroo laughed, not disagreeing, and Keiji watched them both with fond amusement, only startling when Bokuto’s attention turned to them. His eyes were lidded unevenly, a sure sign of his comfort and confidence, and Keiji felt heat rush through their body as he confronted them.

“Are you, Akaashi?” he asked, and he stretched out his arm, sliding his palm under their skirt and onto their thigh. Keiji stiffened, biting their lips, and shifted themself away, ignoring Bokuto’s dismayed sigh.

“I think it’s best that we don’t get into that just yet,” they said, choosing their words carefully. They stared purposefully at their knees, but out of the corner of their eye they could see Bokuto stumbling for a response, reeling a little as though he’d been hit.

“Oh  - god, sorry Akaashi - I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready - or even if you’re never ready, that’s cool - fuck, Tetsu, can you help me out here?”

Keiji looked up to see Bokuto staring pleadingly at Kuroo, who was laughing at both of them, still tangled in Bokuto’s limbs.

“Nah, you’re doing a fine job,” Kuroo said, and Keiji glared at him. They shifted themself on the couch, bringing their ankle to rest underneath them, and reached out to touch Bokuto’s knee.

“I’m not saying I’m not ready or don’t want to, Bokuto. I’ve slept with people before,” they clarified, watching Bokuto’s expression go from mortification to relief and then straight back again. “Believe me, it’s...something I’ve thought about often. I just don’t want to rush into things. Already I’ve essentially started living in your space, and you keep trying to get me to call you by your given names…”

“That’s not  _ rushing _ ,” Bokuto started, and Keiji held up a hand. It was all too easy to get caught up in Bokuto’s emotions when he talked, especially when their own instinct was screaming at them to go along with him. If he tapped into that, they’d be a lost cause, and no matter what Kuroo said, throwing their whole heart in so brazenly was sure to make them hurt even more.

“Please, Bokuto. It means something to me, at least, and it’s so soon, and I’m not completely sure we’ve resolved the tensions from last week…”

“Sounds like you’re just listing excuses,” Kuroo said. His voice was lazy, grin audible but hidden behind Bokuto’s back. Keiji almost missed the Kuroo that stumbled so awkwardly through a confession he had convinced them that they were being mocked. “Why do you have to look for things that could go wrong?”

“One of us has to,” Keiji said sharply. “We’re not on our honeymoon yet. We still have no idea what we’re doing.”

Almost immediately, Keiji regretted their choice of phrasing. The words ‘honeymoon’ and ‘yet’ had sent Bokuto into a gooey state of panic, and Kuroo was still sniggering, poking Bokuto in the side.

God, sometimes they had to question their own taste. Keiji rolled their eyes, huffing in frustration, and after a moment Kuroo calmed down, though Bokuto still seemed to be in his own world somewhere - most likely Hawaii.

“Do we need to know what we’re doing, though?” Kuroo asked. Bokuto tuned back in at this, and he hummed in agreement. Keiji looked at them both plaintively.

“Of course we do,” they replied, trying to understand where Kuroo was coming from.

“Why?”

“Are you playing devil’s advocate?” Keiji narrowed their eyes, and Kuroo snorted, shaking his head. He shifted, tugging on Bokuto’s arm to manoeuvre them both until they were sitting up.

“No, Akaashi.” Kuroo sounded as though he was talking to a child, and Keiji bristled, irritated. It wasn’t as though Kuroo and Bokuto were experts at making relationships work - their first three months together had been disastrous. “I’m trying to open your mind to the possibility that you don’t have to know exactly where you’re going, what you’re doing, and what’s up next in your life. You don’t want to force this, do you?”

“No…” Keiji conceded, though they were reluctant to give Kuroo any credit at this point. Beside them, Bokuto rested a hand on their knee, heavy and comforting. Keiji relaxed, and Kuroo smiled gently, sympathetic.

“Well, keeping rigidly to a low schedule is just as forced as rushing into things you aren’t ready for, isn’t it? We’re not trying to pressure you or anything, it’s just…” Kuroo sighed, tugging on his fringe. “If you want something, and we want it too, what exactly is it that’s stopping you from taking it?”

Keiji didn’t have an answer. They sucked in their cheeks, silent and thoughtful. Everything in their gut was saying that the reason was ‘fear’, but they couldn’t bring themself to admit it. Fear was what had caused them to run away the first time, and they had all sworn to move on and learn from that experience.

“We’re not going to do anything tonight, anyway,” Bokuto said after a long silence, leaning against Keiji’s side. Keiji moved instinctively with him, tilting their head to rest against his and inhaling the scent of sweat and hair gel. Kuroo reached across, shaking Keiji’s knee with his hand. “It’s just something to think about. Come on, let’s get to bed.”

“Shower, first,” Keiji insisted softly, and Bokuto huffed, but went to do as he was told.

In the bedroom, Kuroo and Bokuto play wrestled until they were exhausted, pulling Keiji to lie in between them. It was warm, and both Kuroo and Bokuto’s chests were pressed stickily against their sides, but they couldn’t bring themself to complain. Sandwiched between Bokuto and Kuroo’s hot breaths and clinging arms, they felt safe, and being afraid of anything involving the two of them seemed impossible.

The next afternoon brought Konoha to Bokuto and Kuroo’s door. Keiji was on the couch, leaning back to see past Kuroo’s form into the doorway, and when Konoha noticed them he shook his head, looking thoroughly unimpressed with his hands on his hips.

“I fucking knew you would be here,” he said accusingly. “When was the last time you charged your phone?”

“I switch it off overnight,” Keiji protested, knowing full well that they hadn’t switched it back on yet. Kuroo moved swiftly out of the way, and Konoha raised a single eyebrow, looking pained.

“It’s two in the afternoon, Akaashi,” he said. Keiji raised their hands in surrender. “Get your coat. You’re treating me to coffee in exchange for some civilised company.”

Bokuto and Kuroo steered clear of Konoha in the doorway whilst Keiji got ready, presumably wanting to avoid any kind of scathing judgement or protective speech (Keiji, much wiser, knew that Konoha would give them no such thing). Still, Bokuto leapt forward just as Keiji was about to leave, wrapping his arms around Keiji’s neck and giving Konoha a resoundingly wet kiss on the cheek. Konoha sputtered, turning a vivid crimson, and Bokuto grinned brightly.

“See you, Aki-kun!” he exclaimed, and Keiji stifled their laugh as they shut the door. Konoha grumbled all the way down the stairs, taking the length of them for his flush to subside.

“You’d better be taking me to see Shirofuku,” Keiji quipped, falling into step on the street beside Konoha. “Otherwise I’m not sure what you meant by the company being ‘civilised’.”

“Shut up,” Konoha said, as smooth as always, before offering his arm to Keiji. Keiji slid theirs between his elbow, smiling. “Yukie’s working, so it’s just me. I want an update.”

Keiji filled Konoha in on most of the details during the subway ride to Glitch, and by the time they were perched at the bar with their drinks, Konoha was shaking his head again, this time in disbelief. 

“So, you went from avoiding them at every turn to playing house, but you won’t let them change anything about your actual relationship?” He asked. “Man, talk about whiplash. I almost feel sorry for Bokuto...almost.”

“We’ve changed a lot!” Keiji insisted, their words ringing empty even to their own ears. “We’ve kissed.”

“That’s barely a step, given how gross you all were before,” Konoha countered. “Besides, haven’t you dreamt of calling them by their first name for years? I remember that study night when you -”

“Alright,” Keiji said, louder than necessary, and Konoha laughed. He always took great pleasure in reminding Keiji of their cinematic levels of pining. “It’s just… well, it’s exactly that, I guess. It’s always just been a dream.”

“You really like to overthink things, Keiji,” Konoha said. Akaashi froze, looking at Konoha, and Konoha met their gaze pointedly. “See how easy that was? What does it mean to you that makes it so hard?”

Keiji paused, taking a drink to buy themself time.

“...Trust,” they said eventually. “It’s not using the name that’s the problem; it’s the idea that someday I might have to stop. I don’t think that I can bear it.”

“Alright, Murakami-sensei,” Konoha laughed, exasperated but fond. He reached out to ruffle Keiji’s hair, and Keiji grabbed his wrist, glaring. “Seriously, though, you shouldn’t not do something because life is impermanent and we’re all going to die some day, and even if you want to, it’s too late. You’re already dating, right?”

“Right,” Keiji said, slow and thoughtful. Konoha slapped their back lightly, rubbing their shoulders.

“Alright, good, you get it. So now you can go back to your new home, let your parents know you’ve moved for good and get fucked. Or fuck...or both, I don’t know how it works. And call Yukie afterwards, please, because I really don’t want to know the details. An emoji text is more than enough, thanks.”

Keiji snorted, and the conversation turned to lighter topics, catching up on Konoha’s relentless work drama and planning the next trans group outing. Konoha left them at the coffee shop with a wink and a gentle nudge, and Keiji took the subway back in pensive silence. They headed to Kuroo and Bokuto’s automatically, not even stopping to contemplate calling in at home. By now, Kuroo had given them a spare set of keys, citing laziness as the reason, and Keiji looked at it in their hands as they went to lock the door. Bokuto’s old volleyball keychain, battered and dirty, was dangling from the ring that held them together, and it comforted them. Some changes had felt so natural, because they couldn’t have imagined anything else, and yet here they were, holding themself back from having everything they wanted even when it was being offered to them. In the end, Bokuto would always be there, because he’d never let anything between them, just like he never had before. Keiji’s bond with Kuroo might be more recent, but it felt just as strong; for all their games, Kuroo cared, and he was tenacious to the point of irritation. 

Keiji smiled, exhaling a breath they didn’t know they’d been holding as they unlocked the door.

“I’m home, Koutarou, Tetsurou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "why do you write nothing but communication, tawni?" you ask. a) because it's the most important aspect of any relationship and i love exploring that shit and b) because i'm a cock tease. the next chapter will be nsfw, but i haven't hammered out the details, so if you've got any special requests feel free to hit me up and see if i'm inspired. alternatively, it'll have the bare minimum of plot development, so if nsfw makes you uncomfortable you can skip it.
> 
> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice) or [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com).


	6. "I'd like to up my physical power levels"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji had had a lot of time to speculate about what sex with Koutarou and Tetsurou would be like. They should have known that none of their fantasies could ever reflect the reality; after all, both of them are nothing if not unpredictable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, guys, the longest chapter and it's the sexy chapter, of course it is, why did i expect anything else? if smut isn't your thing, there's nothing plot specific, just a whole lotta emotion, so you can wait for the next chapter if you want.
> 
> for the sake of clarity and people's comfort, this chapter involves sex between a cis man, a trans man and a nonbinary person, with the genitalia penis: vagina: penis. in order to avoid confusion, the descriptive words used are 'cock' and 'cunt'.

Keiji sank into the mattress, sighing softly as Tetsurou and Koutarou surrounded them on both sides. Tetsurou ran his fingers through their hair, pulling gently on the on their curls and smiling down at them as Koutarou pressed kisses into every part of their body he can reach. He untucked their blouse, wrinkling the fabric and pushing it up to their chest, pausing for a moment.

“Wow,” he said, gaze fixed on the brown skin of their stomach. They could feel themself flushing.

“You’ve seen it before, Koutarou,” they chided. The name still felt exotic on their tongue, sending a rush through them that made them shiver. Koutarou noticed - of course he did - and his resulting grin was predatory.

“This isn’t the locker room, Keiji,” he said, drawing out their name. It was no different from how he mangled their surname, but somehow it felt even more special, like he wanted to savour it. Keiji bit their lip, stifling their reaction, and Tetsurou laughed from his position above their head, bending to kiss them on the mouth.

“Let him have his fun,” Tetsurou murmured, teasing. “Your ego will love it, I promise.”

“I’m not you; I don’t need my ego stroked,” Keiji attempted to retort, but their words were interrupted by Tetsurou’s tongue and teeth, clumsy kisses distracting them from all thoughts of the game.

Koutarou’s hands were coarse on their stomach, tickling them as he dipped his fingers into the folds of their skin, and Keiji gasped when Koutarou’s teeth scraped along the flesh over their hip.

Keiji didn’t know whose name they wanted to call. “Guh,” they settled for, reaching out to squeeze Tetsurou’s arm, and both he and Koutarou laughed. “I hate you both.”

Tetsurou leant over them, beginning to undo the buttons of their blouse.

“Don’t say that…” he said, tugging on the material, and Keiji lifted themself, helping him pull their arm free of the sleeve. “Or do. It’s kind of hot, actually.”

“Not for me,” Koutarou chimed in. He was propped up on his elbows, watching Tetsurou remove Keiji’s top, and Keiji rolled their eyes. “I only want love.”

They didn’t know why they’d imagined sex with them to be any different from this, or more romantic. As it was, it was almost perfect - though now that the haze of finally being there was fading, they were beginning to notice some flaws.

“Don’t you think this is a bit one-sided?” They asked, gesturing to themself, and then to Tetsurou and Koutarou, who were fully clothed and far away from one another. They both blinked as though nothing was amiss.

“We want to spoil you, Keiji,” Tetsurou explained, and Keiji moved, pushing themself into a sitting position and twisting to look at Tetsurou’s face. His smile was soft and unguarded, eyes lidded and looking at them gently. Like they were something fragile. “This is new.”

“For all of us,” Keiji said, feeling themself frown. The warmth in their chest was fading, replaced by something heavier, and as desperate as they were to get it back, they felt restless. “It’s new for all of us.”

“But we-”

“I’m not some blushing virgin,” they said bluntly. Koutarou gaped, reddening from his neck through to his ears, and Tetsurou averted his eyes. Immediately, Keiji knew that that was exactly what they had both been thinking. They sighed. “Honestly, it’s like you think we’re - or at least I am - still in high school. Did you talk about this amongst yourselves?”

“Well, you were so nervous…” Koutarou began, scrambling closer as he tried to defend himself, but Keiji held up a hand, stopping him short. 

“Not about this,” they told him. “Or at least, not about the act. I haven’t spent my entire student life pining for you both...not quite.”

Koutarou gaped, and Keiji could see his reactions shifting: wanting to ask them who; wanting to forget it entirely; unable to stop himself from picturing it in vivid detail. Keiji gestured him closer, sliding a hand under his t-shirt as soon as he got close enough. If Koutarou couldn’t stabilise himself, they would do it for him, by proving their own point.

Keiji brushed a thumb over Koutarou’s abs, then utilised his shiver of surprise to press forward, kissing him. Koutarou whined softly into their mouth as he melted, and behind them Keiji heard Tetsurou whistle, amused and impressed. They brought their hand higher, circling Koutarou’s nipple, and when he moaned they moved quickly, sliding his t-shirt up and over his head before he even had time to realise that he was complying.

“You want to spoil me?” they asked, half in Koutarou’s lap and pressing closer. Koutarou’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and dark, and Keiji could see that this turn of events aroused him more than he’d expected; perhaps even more than what he’d originally planned. “Give me some control.”

“Do you think you can take both of us?” Tetsurou said, shuffling across the bed to kneel behind them. His chest was against their back, and he bent his head to nip at their neck, inhaling deeply. Keiji allowed their eyes to close, the heat of their breath sending a thrill straight down their spine. “I’ve heard we’re quite a handful.”

Keiji scoffed, though there was less sincerity behind it than they would have liked, because Tetsurou was still sucking wet kisses into their neck and Koutarou’s hands were roaming again, insatiably curious.

“I’ve been doing that since we met,” they breathed. “Besides, I like to challenge myself.”

Tetsurou laughed, and his warmth moved away from Keiji’s back. They turned instinctively, missing him already, but was appeased when they saw him still on the bed, hurrying to take off his shirt and tracksuit pants. He tossed them onto the floor and Keiji rolled their eyes.

“You slob,” they began, but their attention was diverted when Tetsurou sat back against the headboard, spreading his legs.

“Do your worst, then,” Tetsurou said. His eyes were lidded heavily, surveying them, and Keiji felt like they were being tested. All they could focus on was how god damn  _ sultry _ he looked right now, all angles and long, sinewy limbs but so comfortable in his own body. It was hotter than they’d ever imagined, and Keiji found themself struck with the inexplicable urge to lick his calf.

“I know, right?” Koutarou sighed into their ear, still close to them and reluctant to let them go, if the hand squeezing their hip was anything to go by. “He’s an asshole. I love him.”

Despite the situation, Koutarou’s voice was soft and fond, cracking around the edges as though he was speaking at Tetsurou’s wedding instead of in their bedroom. The emotion in his words hit Keiji more deeply than any arousal could, and they leant backwards, stretching their neck at an angle and pulling Koutarou’s head down so they could kiss him. Koutarou released his grip on their hip as he moved to make their position more comfortable, and after a small war with themself they took the opportunity to pull away.

“Come with me,” they tugged on Koutarou’s arm, and they both moved towards where Tetsurou was at the head of the bed. Keiji settled astride one of Tetsurou’s parted thighs, their hands tracing and massaging the muscle beneath their groin. Tetsurou hummed, pleased, and brought his hand to the back of Keiji’s neck. Beside him, Koutarou settled on his chest, kissing his clavicle, though his eyes were still turned towards Keiji.

“We’re all playing at being arrogant…” Kuroo murmured, smiling as though he was sharing a private joke. Keiji felt heat rising in them, unsure if they felt mocked or cared for. “I’m pretty sure we’re actually scared shitless, you know.”

Koutarou huffed indignantly, but Keiji knew that Tetsurou wasn’t wrong. When he had called them out on their challenge, their mind had gone blank, and every fantasy they had entertained suddenly seeming ridiculous and impossible to execute. What was their worst, really? They had no idea.

They were thinking too much again. It’s gotten in the way before, preventing Keiji from enjoying the fun parts of sex because they were too busy focusing on what they were doing - or supposed to be doing - and they refused to let a fault they were aware of get in the way of their first experience with people that really mattered to them. Tetsurou was still watching them, his challenge beginning to fade into something that resembled concern, and Keiji couldn’t have that. They decided to go with their gut.

Keiji shifted on the bed, shucking off their own jeans and folding them by the side of the bed, silencing Tetsurou’s teasing before it could start by sliding their hand up his thigh. They lowered themself carefully onto their stomach between Tetsurou’s legs and ran the tip of their nose along the edge of his boxer shorts, exhaling hot air. Tetsurou closed his eyes.

“Keiji…” he murmured, and they were startled out of their reply by Koutarou moving behind them. Thick, coarse fingers wrapped around their ankles, guiding their legs to rest on the hard edges of Koutarou’s hips as he pressed eagerly forward, releasing them to dip his fingers underneath the elastic of their panties.

“Your underwear is always so cute, Keiji,” Koutarou breathed, closer than expected. His voice was pitched deep in excitement, and it send a shiver down Keiji’s spine. “I’ve seen it in the locker room...here, too, sometimes. Always wanted to taste it.”

“It’s just fabric, Koutar-  _ oh _ ,” Keiji began, but Koutarou had already bent low, teeth catching on their skin as he pulled at it with his mouth and dragged out his own name into a moan on Keiji’s lips. Tetsurou laughed at them, his hips rocking with the movement, and Keiji bit their lip. Their mouth was dangerously - temptingly - close to the bulge beneath Tetsurou’s boxers, and Koutarou was mouthing at the curve of their ass through their panties, and already Keiji felt ready to burst, overwhelmed by the amount of sensation they were trying to keep track of.

“Relax,” Tetsurou said softly above them, his voice a buoy on the surface of the ocean, and Keiji clung to it, allowing Tetsurou to guide them slowly down by their hair. Their mouth opened in a wordless moan, following Koutarou’s example and tonguing at the rough fabric of Tetsurou’s boxers.

The fabric was dry and tasteless, making Keiji want to pull back and grimace, but the strangled whine that came from Tetsurou’s mouth and the pull on their scalp they felt as his grip tightened was more than enough compensation. There was a thud as Tetsurou’s head fell against the wall, and then Keiji was lifted with Tetsurou’s thighs, moving to help him get his underwear off. On all fours, Koutarou kept his nose in Keiji’s ass, and it would be comical if it wasn’t so damn hot, making them press back into him, flushing.

“Your fucking mouth…” Tetsurou groaned, and this time it was Keiji who laughed, though breathless. Tetsurou was already half hard and god, somehow all the experience in the world couldn’t have prepared Keiji for seeing their best friend’s cock - not when it was so close and wanting for Keiji, thanks to Keiji’s tongue.

“So eager,” they said, watching Tetsurou stroke his cock, his eyes dark and heavy lidded as he stared back at them. Koutarou was tugging impatiently at Keiji’s panties, clearly trying to drag them down with his mouth, but keeping them on gave Keiji a little more confidence and control, and they moved forward with reluctance, reaching back to swat Koutarou away.

“I’ll say when they come off,” they said, turning to look at him briefly. It came out rushed because of their own desperation, but Keiji didn’t miss the way Koutarou’s pupils dilated at the harshness of their tone. They made sure to file it away for later, once they’d finished finding their feet. Koutarou groaned, sitting back on his haunches and moving to press his thighs together, obviously uncomfortable.

“Unfair…” he said, and Keiji laughed. Of course Koutarou would be the most impatient, but they intended to finish what they had started with Tetsurou. He would have to wait his turn.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch,” they offered. It was a small compromise, but Koutarou pounced on it, and by the time Keiji had turned their attention back to Tetsurou’s cock Koutarou was crowding behind them again, hands running over their hips in scattered circles, carefully obedient as he passed over the band of their underwear.

Tetsurou was watching them with a fond look of amusement, his mouth just slightly open as he thumbed the head of his cock. Keiji took one more look at it, still hardly comprehending the reality of the situation, before brushing Tetsurou’s hand away and bending low, eyes straining to look up at him as they placed their lips over the head. Tetsurou gasped, and that was all the invitation Keiji needed to apply more pressure, bobbing their head in careful, methodical movements as they reached to pull Tetsurou’s foreskin back and tongue at his slit.

Tetsurou tasted the same as any other cock - salty, and not entirely unpleasant, but nothing special, either. Keiji didn’t know why they’d expected it to be any different; that Tetsurou would taste sweeter, or more flavoursome, and be something that they craved. Still, the shudder that wracked through Tetsurou’s body passed onto Keiji like an electric charge, hips pressing up into Koutarou’s jaw. Koutarou kissed the dimple of their back and reached forward, mouthing at the skin as he palmed Keiji’s cock through their panties. They moaned around Tetsurou’s cock, the vibration thrumming in the back of their throat, and then felt the softness of Koutarou’s cheek resting on their back and the heat of his breath as he nuzzled them.

“Fuck…” Koutarou murmured, and though Keiji had to strain to focus, they could hear that his voice was thick with emotion. “You’re makin’ Tetsu so happy…”

“You sound like you’ve already come, Kou -  _ ah - _ ” Tetsurou teased between pants as Keiji kept teasing the head of his cock with their tongue. “He always gets emotional after an orgasm or two - oh, come on Keiji, if we’re skipping the foreplay can’t you give me a bit  _ more _ ?”

Keiji lifted their mouth from his cock with a soft pop, tongue swiping across their lips to catch their drool and Tetsurou’s come - the taste was growing on them. 

“You’re assuming again,” they chided, looking up at Tetsurou as he hissed, lifting his hips insistently closer to Keiji’s mouth. “This  _ is _ the foreplay.”

Koutarou laughed hoarsely, squeezing Keiji’s cock, and they retaliated by wiggling their ass, reaching out to cup and play with Tetsurou’s balls. He squeaked and Keiji laughed, releasing them and crawling to sit in his lap. Koutarou hurried after them, and they kissed him, their thumb running over the base of Tetsurou’s cock, and Tetsurou’s hand in their hair.

Soon, they thought, they would hardly care about keeping track of who was who. It was Koutarou’s tongue in their mouth, but they would be just as happy if it was Tetsurou’s, and Tetsurou’s nimble fingers could easily be replaced by Koutarou’s rough touch. They smiled into Koutarou’s mouth, and he pulled back, looking at them quizzically. 

“What is it?” he asked. Keiji shook their head, still smiling; they weren’t sure that they could stop.

“This is just… fun,” they said, meeting Koutarou’s loving eyes and leaning back into Tetsurou as they stroked his cock. A laugh mingled with Tetsurou’s moans, and he wrapped an arm around them, kissing their temple.

“I should hope so,” Tetsurou commented. “If you said it was boring you’d have two very bruised egos to deal with.”

Keiji snorted, twisting their neck to kiss Tetsurou on the mouth and thumbing the head of his cock. Their palm grew warm and wet as Tetsurou’s precome dripped onto their hand, and their own hips jerked involuntarily. Koutarou caught the action immediately, rushing forward to press his palm against them and drag their breath out into a moan. He was dripping wet, Keiji noticed, heat prickling their skin; his thighs were pressed together in obvious discomfort. They probably shouldn’t keep him waiting for much longer.

“How do we…?” Keiji began, eyes roving over Koutarou’s body, want starting to build as an ache in their gut. They’d walked in on enough unfortunate situations to know how Koutarou and Tetsurou liked to have sex together, but Koutarou’s boundaries could be different with them, especially because it was their first time. Catching their meaning, Koutarou smiled, his eyes shining, and Keiji made a mental note to chastise him later - he shouldn’t be grateful for consideration that at minimum was owed to him. It was a lesson they’d had to learn themself, and they wouldn’t accept less from Koutarou.

“Anything,” Koutarou said, rushed, and Keiji fought the urge to laugh, even though Tetsurou had no such tact. “No, really, please, I just want you both...”

“Let’s build up to that, okay?” Tetsurou said between snorts, and Keiji shot him a dirty look, squeezing his cock hard until he yelped. It wasn’t a deterrent, though. “Careful, Keiji, if you keep doing that I’m gonna start liking it.”

Keiji rolled their eyes, turning their attention away from Tetsurou and holding their arms out to Koutarou, who hurried to lie beside where they were sitting. His eyes were softly lidded, gaze filled with an intensity of emotion that made it difficult for Keiji to swallow. They cupped his cheek, completely forgetting that their hand was still sticky with Tetsurou’s precome, but Koutarou only moaned when he felt it, tongue darting out to lap at Keiji’s thumb when it brushed his lips.

“Can I taste you?” Keiji asked, though for a second they thought they might not be able to speak. Koutarou nodded, inhaling sharply through his nose, and kissed Keiji’s thumb one more time before they moved off of Tetsurou’s lap. Starting at his shoulders, they pressed kisses all the way down Koutarou’s body, tracing the lines of his muscles and scars with their lips and teeth until their nose was buried in the wetness of his mound. They didn’t waste any time once they were at the bottom of the bed, gripping his thighs - and  _ god _ , had they dreamt about his thighs - and licking a long stripe over his slit. They closed their eyes to focus on Koutarou’s taste, more pleasant than Tetsurou’s though similarly unremarkable, and to hear his moan more clearly. Just being able to elicit these sounds from both of them was enough to make Keiji come, they thought, brow furrowing as they pictured embarrassing themself that way. It was ridiculous how in love they were.

They lost themself in Koutarou’s scent after that, eyes remaining closed and tongue aching as they tasted him, moaning and bobbing their head as they sucked on his clit. Dimly, they heard Tetsurou’s moans get louder and Koutarou’s become muffled by slick, wet noises, and even though they couldn’t see it, knowing that Koutarou was sucking off Tetsurou as they ate him out made them so hard they felt pained. 

Their own cock pressed insistently against their underwear, leaking so much that the lining was chafing against their thighs. There was a soft pop as Koutarou pulled off Tetsurou, and Keiji gasped, pulling up for air when they felt Koutarou’s fingers tugging insistently at their waistband once more.

“ _ Please _ ,” he said, desperate and whining, and the only reason Keiji made him wait was because they had to catch their breath. They nodded roughly, their throat roughly attempting an ascent, and Koutarou nearly tore the threads in his enthusiasm, kissing Keiji’s cock repeatedly and rapidly the moment it was free. The sensation was bizarre, intense and fleeting all at once, making them laugh and groan, hips chasing Koutarou’s mouth for more.

“The fuck is this…?” they asked, breathless, and Tetsurou grinned at them, hazy and flushed at the top of the bed.

“It’s how he shows his love,” Tetsurou said, Koutarou too busy administering kisses to Keiji’s balls, their head falling back onto the mattress as they laughed.

“Aha - it tickles - god - you’re so  _ weird - _ ” Keiji said, and then their breath caught in the middle of their laughter, stuttering as heat rushed to their groin, their orgasm fast and intense and catching them by surprise. “-  _ Ohh…” _

They lay still for a moment, chest heaving and staring at the ceiling, and no one said anything. When they looked up, both Tetsurou and Koutarou were staring at them, the lower half of Koutarou’s face streaked with cloudy liquid. Koutarou grinned, and the heat that had been pooling in their abdomen rushed to Keiji’s face in mortification.

“Oh my god…” they said, groaning. “I can’t believe…”

“You came from Kou’s kiss attack!” Tetsurou exclaimed, gleeful, and Keiji was still too loose and foggy to put any heat into their glare. “That’s adorable.”

“That wasn’t it…” they mumbled, turning their face into the sheets in futile attempt to hide themself. “It was just - such a  _ Koutarou _ thing to do - I -”

There was another pause, and when Keiji risked a look they saw that Tetsurou’s gaze had softened and Koutarou’s eyes were shining again, his lips wobbling, and Keiji wasn’t completely sure that he was breathing. Koutarou coughed, and Tetsurou looked at him in alarm.

“Hey - Kou - are you  _ crying _ -?” Tetsurou didn’t have time to finish before Koutarou had thrown himself on Keiji. He rutted aimlessly, wet cunt sliding over their soft cock, and his face loomed closer until he was showering Keiji with kisses, covering them in their own come.

“I love you so much,” Koutarou said between kisses, and Keiji heard enough to tell that he wasn’t crying - but only just. They moved to push him off and ran their fingers through his hair instead, pulling him closer and kissing him chastely on the mouth, the taste of themself still on his lips. Tetsurou laughed, and Keiji opened their eyes, peering around Koutarou’s face to see him wearing a gooey smile that they knew he'd try to deny later. Their gazes met, and Tetsurou’s eyes sparkled, not smug but genuinely loving, as though nothing had ever brought him this much joy before. A lump formed in Keiji’s throat, and they were forced to stop kissing Koutarou, settling instead for rubbing their nose against his cheek. 

“I guess this settles the problem of who does what…” they began, still hazy and high. Normally, coming too early left them frustrated and unsatisfied, not helped by their partner’s mirrored reaction. Maybe it was that Koutarou and Tetsurou had been so receptive, but this time it felt like a dam had burst, and they were floating in the water that had pooled at the bottom. Even if they had to watch their boyfriends - and god, that word still felt new and surreal - fuck without them, they’d be happy with what they’d experienced.

“Not yet,” Koutarou said, both Tetsurou and Keiji looking at him in surprise. “I want Keiji to be the first to make me come, this time. Tetsu can fuck me after if he wants, but there's no way I'm going without on the first time…” he wriggled his hips against Keiji’s cock, which was sensitive despite its softness, and they whined. Tetsurou took a moment, considering Koutarou’s words. 

“I was gonna be offended, but he's right…” he said, looking at Keiji, eyes gleaming. “I want you to make me come too, Keiji. I'll wait my turn.”

“So demanding…” Keiji uttered, eyes rolling, but they couldn't deny that the attention was flattering, and they had already moved, pushing Koutarou up and off their clit so they could reach him better. They shifted round, thighs shuddering from their orgasm, and bent between him once he'd settled in Tetsurou’s lap. Tetsurou gripped their hair as they returned to Koutarou’s cunt, massaging the back of their head when they pressed their nose into him. He was even wetter than before, and Keiji could still taste what they had gleaned of themself from Koutarou’s face. The combination made Keiji groan and press themself further into the mattress, wishing they had the capacity to get hard again.

Keiji finished him with their mouth and fingers, crooking them slightly and shivering with satisfaction when he squeezed his muscles around them. Koutarou’s reactions were extreme and delectable, and Keiji was certain eating him out was going to become one of their favourite things. 

Tetsurou’s grip had tightened when Koutarou came, gasping and twitching, his ass rutting backwards against Tetsurou’s cock, and when Keiji finally turned their attention to him he was red and panting. His smile slipped into something more like desperation when they teased him with their thumb, and then they pulled him down until he was lying over them on the bed. 

“I'm not ready for you to fuck me, yet,” they said, speaking plainly - although it was more for the sake of resting their cock than any nerves. “But you can have my thighs.”

It was an idle fantasy they'd entertained, mostly involving themself and Koutarou’s strong thighs between their cock, but they were sure that Tetsurou would get off on the crassness of it, and judging by the way his eyes darkened, laugh low and rumbling in his chest, they weren't wrong. He pinned them to the mattress, thighs raised and clenched just so, and pushed himself between them, his own slick acting as lube. Even though the positioning was awkward the view must have been enjoyable, because they caught sight of Koutarou’s face in the throes of orgasm once more as he got himself off, watching Tetsurou fuck their thighs with far too much tenderness for the act. 

Come ran down Keiji’s legs and into their ass crack when Tetsurou came, and they shuddered, embarrassed at how much they enjoyed a sensation they would have otherwise found abhorrent. 

“Oh…” they sighed, and heard Tetsurou doing the same, waiting a few moments to catch his breath before lowering their thighs carefully. They stared at each other, chests heaving, and Keiji’s heart swelled in disbelief, swallowing thickly and then shouting as Koutarou threw himself on top of them, pulling Tetsurou down until they were tangled, doing something resembling cuddling, they supposed. They laughed, eyes closed and stroking someone's - it was hard to tell post-sex, they were both as messy as the other - hair.

“Wow,” Koutarou said, and Keiji could hear the grin in his voice, blinding them behind their eyelids. “ _ Wow.  _ Tetsu, we had sex with Keiji.”

“We certainly did,” came Tetsurou’s reply, lazy and content. 

“We had sex with Tetsu, Keiji!” 

“That shouldn't be a surprise for you,” Keiji said drily, and got a soft punch in the thigh for their efforts. 

“Yeah, but you were there!” Koutarou insisted, and they laughed, conceding, if only because they were too tired to torment him further. 

Keiji hummed, the weight of their orgasm and two heavy bodies pulling them deeper into sleep. Dimly, they knew they'd hate themself when they woke up dirty, sticky and at the wrong end of the bed, but they couldn't bring themself to care as they felt Tetsurou’s breath in their ear and Koutarou’s on their neck, both evening out until they were almost in synch. 

They couldn't believe they'd worried about this. Almost nothing they'd imagined had come to be, but everything was perfect all the same. Even when they woke up, stiff and groaning and with a mountain of cleaning to be done, they would have no regrets, the smile on their face speaking volumes more than the complaints that came from their lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find and support me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice) and [ tumblr](http:deciduice.tumblr.com/).


	7. human highlight reel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji probably should have realised that they weren't the only one with hang ups; the three of them took some time to accept that their relationship was never going to be static, but that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!! it's done. i'm kind of sad about it, but i hope you've enjoyed the journey with me. as a warning, bokuto experiences something resembling a panic attack in this, so if that's likely to discomfit you, i'd recommend finding a safe and relaxing time to read it (don't worry, it's not long and everyone helps out)
> 
> thank you so much to kep for betaing, cheering me on and massaging my fragile ego. this wouldn't have been finished without you.

Keiji had never felt so lucky. Waking up after their first night together had felt like a dream until they’d coaxed Tetsurou’s head out from between his pillows and he’d rolled into them, long arms reaching lazily for their cock. The day had passed in a haze of take-out food and sex, and Keiji had allowed it without complaint, bearing the lethargy of a grease-filled stomach happily, because why shouldn’t they take some time to celebrate now that things had finally fallen into place?

Eventually, of course, they had to go home, and their mother had greeted them with a smile and a request not to give her the details. She rolled her eyes when Keiji flushed, reaching out to run her hands along a strand of their hair.

“I’m glad everything worked out,” she told them sincerely, “but if you’re going to spend all your time over there, you’d better start paying them rent and stop bringing your laundry home to me.”

Keiji had waved her off, but in all honesty they’d begun entertaining the idea even before they’d left. They had enough savings to pay a third of the rent, and feasibly they could add themselves onto the contract in a couple of months, living there unofficially beforehand as a sort of trial. They couldn’t even bring themself to be embarassed at how quickly they’d submitted to making lovestruck plans - this was what they wanted, and they’d waited long enough.

They breached the subject with Koutarou and Tetsurou the next day, nervous without needing to be because their reactions were exactly what Keiji expected them to be. Tetsurou made a joke about finally getting the live in maid of his pre-teen fantasies, but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face, so wide Keiji worried his muscles might lock. Koutarou whooped, picking Keiji up with ease and spinning them around before kissing them deeply. Then he dropped them, bright red and apologetic, and Keiji laughed, kissing his cheek to reassure him. On his way into the kitchen to break out the sake, Koutarou banged his head against the doorway, too lovestruck to pay attention, and Keiji and Tetsurou mocked him for the rest of the evening, revelling in his quest for pity.

Then they fucked again, and Keiji didn’t think they were ever going to be able to get enough of that. Their appetite was insatiable, and they lay awake fantasising long after Koutarou and Tetsurou had fallen asleep. Everything they could dream of was a reality, now, and there was so much they wanted to do.

Their life couldn’t revolve around sex, though, and there was an endless stretch of time ahead of them, so they let themself fall into a more realistic routine, balancing schooling and volleyball with their newly developing homelife. It was about two weeks into that, when Keiji casually remarked that they were feeling well and truly settled, that things began to falter.

Perhaps they should have seen it coming. In the midst of Keiji and Tetsurou’s individual fuck ups, Koutarou had been incredibly calm and balanced, and he’d accepted everyone’s feelings with both enthusiasm and optimism. The first was to be expected, but the latter… Once Keiji and Tetsurou had come to terms with their mistakes and grown from them, Koutarou finally had enough room to have his own crisis.

Koutarou’s anxiety revealed itself in pieces. He grew tired, going to bed early or passing out on the couch halfway through the movie they were watching; he spent more time with his teammates, which Keiji had initially thought was a good thing, hoping that he was becoming more comfortable playing with them; his kisses were tentative and then desperate, like he wasn’t sure what he was holding onto, but he didn’t know how to let go.

He was clumsy, too. Koutarou dropped enough plates in the space of a week that they started sharing bowls. It was funny at first, and Tetsurou laughed it off, saying he’d buy a new, nicer set.

“Call it a moving in present for Keiji,” Tetsurou said, and Koutarou laughed far too loudly, and that’s when the pieces began to move together and take some form of shape in Keiji’s mind.

They watched him more closely after that, walking with him to and from practice, reaching for his hand when there were others around and trying to figure out if the startled gleam in Koutarou’s eyes was relief or fear. They didn’t spend as much time alone together as they used to now that Kuroo tagged along to their lunches, but it didn’t seem to make a difference anyway; Koutarou behaved the same no matter who was around.

“Are you okay, Koutarou?” Keiji asked once, on the same walk home that their relationship had begun from. Koutarou looked at them for a moment, guilt flashing across his features, and then squeezed their hand.

“‘Course I am!” he said, the assertion neither forced nor genuine, “I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

“Tetsurou, too,” Keiji reminded him gently, because if Koutarou wasn’t ready to talk, he wouldn’t, and they could only let him know he had support. Koutarou puffed out his cheeks, exhaling hard, and stared off into the middle distance.

“Yeah, Tetsurou, too,” he echoed, and Tetsurou’s name sounded foreign unshortened by his tongue. “Wow.”

“We’re all very lucky…” Keiji tried, guessing at what might be going on in Koutarou’s mind. He only hummed in agreement though, and the rest of the journey - as well as much of the evening - passed in quiet contemplation. Keiji held Koutarou’s hand tightly in the bed as they fell asleep that night, and Tetsurou pressed the pillows harder against his ears.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Tetsurou said the next morning, breaking the silence that hung over the kitchen table. Koutarou was at practice, but it was for key players only, and so Keiji and Tetsurou were sharing a late breakfast together. “He goes on about honesty and communication but shuts down whenever he’s upset. He’s such a hypocrite.”

“You know full well that only applies to emotions that matter,” Keiji replied, equally frustrated despite their words. “Koutarou can never tell which ones of his do.”

“They  _ all _ matter,” came Tetsurou’s instant response. He was sulking, picking at his food, but Keiji knew he understood. University had brought an increased self awareness to Koutarou, and he had learned that whilst yes, all of his emotions should matter, some of them didn’t accurately reflect how he was feeling. What he hadn’t grasped yet was that both Tetsurou and Keiji wanted to know about them regardless, and that bottling them up until he could decide whether they were ‘worth’ sharing didn’t make them go away.

“He’ll share when he’s ready, Tetsurou. Give him time,” Keiji said softly, guilt sparking at the twinge of satisfaction they felt at Tetsurou’s vexed huff. Pretending that they knew Koutarou better than Tetsurou did was a habit from older, more jealous days, and they knew they had to curb it now. They were all equal, and Keiji wanted to know Tetsurou just as well, but letting go of competition was hard.

“I’m just...things aren’t the same when Kou’s out of shape,” Tetsurou said, staring at the table. “I’m worried-”

Tetsurou’s jaw snapped closed mid-sentence, and Keiji’s brows skyrocketed. They paused for a second, reaching for their mug of coffee.

“You’re worried…?” Keiji prompted, knowing that this wasn’t just about Koutarou anymore. Tetsurou sighed, running a hand through unbrushed hair. Keiji still couldn’t fathom how they found that bedhead attractive now, even when Tetsurou looked this melancholy.

“Well, yeah. With Kou like this...what happens to us?”

Ah. Keiji had thought this themself occasionally, but they had pushed it firmly down, dismissing it as anxiety. Keiji stretched out their legs under the kitchen table, sliding forward in their seat until they found Tetsurou’s ankles, and kicked them lightly.

“Nothing happens, except that we try to help him, Tetsurou. Do you think I only want you when Koutarou’s around?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou said immediately, and Keiji hid their flinch at the same time as he shook his head. “No. I don’t know. Do you? Of course you don’t.”

“If you want my input, I don’t,” Keiji told him drily, offering a half smile at Tetsurou’s relieved laugh. “Just like you don’t either, and we both don’t not want Koutarou when the other isn’t here. That’s not how this works.”

“But -” Tetsurou started and stopped again. They know what he means, and they’ve felt it too.

“We haven’t had much chance to spend time alone together. Before we were dating, time alone was charged with...everything we were holding back, and now...well, we all want to be together, of course we do. Being alone with Koutarou is easier than being alone with me. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou sighed, wrinkling his nose. He wasn’t happy about it, then, and Keiji was relieved to see it. “I mean, when Kou’s not dodging and hiding shit, anyway.”

“It’s just going to take practice,” Keiji said. “Everything does. And I’m happy to reassure you that my feelings for you are separate from my feelings for Koutarou, just as much as they are connected, at any time. Please ask me; I want you to.”

“Yeah…you, too, you know,” Tetsurou said, kicking Keiji’s ankle in return. “I know you like to be the problem solver and have everything in your head, but it’s cool to ask for reassurance as well as give it, you know.”

Tetsurou had them read again. They averted their gaze, but they couldn’t help the heat that spread across their cheeks and the smile that tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“I’ll try,” they told him, and Tetsurou hummed, satisfied.

“That’s all I want,” he said. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can form a plan. Operation: Get Our Boy Back On Track.”

It was a stupid name, and Keiji told Tetsurou as much, but the intention behind it was pure, and when they worked together, Koutarou didn’t stand a chance. Keiji was used to navigating Koutarou’s moods on the court and Tetsurou at home, so they pooled their resources and began a ceaseless attack of affection and validation. Keiji was there when he left the court to offer praise; Tetsurou helped him with his studies and cooked all of his favourite meals, even though they involved far too much meat for Keiji’s tastes. They ate fruit for dessert instead, because the satisfied look on Koutarou’s face and his flush when Tetsurou reached out to rub his belly was worth it.

Koutarou began to pick up, and Keiji thought that might be the end of it - that maybe he’d just been feeling insecure, but on the eve of Keiji and Tetsurou’s final attack - a visit to the park and a movie marathon which would ultimately lead to the two of them ravishing Koutarou between them - he snapped. Popcorn spilled over the floor as Koutarou pushed the bowl from his lap, and Keiji didn’t stop to think about the mess, because Koutarou’s head was in his hands, and his groan was the kind of anguished Keiji could only remember hearing during his worst breakdowns.

“You’ve got to stop this,” Koutarou mumbled through his fingers, voice wet and cracking. “Both of you, please, you’ve got to stop, it’s so much…”

Tetsurou had lept into action, wrapping his arms around Koutarou and squeezing tightly, rocking in place and leaning close. Keiji sat on the sidelines, watching in confusion. What were they doing wrong?

“What is it, Kou?” Tetsurou asked quietly, his lips in Koutarou’s hair. “This is your favourite film…”

“Exactly!” Koutarou said, and his fingers curled, nails threatening dig into his skin. Keiji edged forward, hands resting at his elbows and ready to act. “My favourite film, my favourite food…you’re doing so much and I don’t deserve it. I don’t - deserve…”

He shook his head, his whole body trembling, and Keiji inhaled deeply. This wasn’t about them, they needed to remember, and it wasn’t about Tetsurou, either.

“Koutarou,” they said, and then again when Koutarou shook his head. Tetsurou kissed his temple, and Keiji said his name one more time, and eventually his hands were lowered, although he refused to meet their eyes. “We’re doing this because we love you, you know that, right?”

“I...why, though?” Koutarou asked, and then shook his head again. “No, don’t answer that, I shouldn’t ask that… I trust you. But you have to do so much for me, just because I’m being a fucking coward, and it’s exhausting. Isn’t it exhausting?”

“No,” Keiji said bluntly, and Tetsurou laughed. Koutarou looked at them both, startled.

“...What?”

“It’s not exhausting, Kou, it’s  _ rewarding _ ,” Tetsurou explained, and Keiji took one of Koutarou’s hands in theirs while Tetsurou stroked his hair. “When we help you feel good and you’re at your best, you’re fucking  _ amazing _ , and we get to pat ourselves on the back and think ‘hey, we’re a part of that’. It’s an ego boost.”

“Put like that it sounds a little crude, but he’s right,” Keiji conceded, squeezing Koutarou’s knuckles. “We wouldn’t do anything we didn’t want to, and I don’t invest my time in things that don’t give me enough in return. You know that, don’t you? You’ve seen it.”

Koutarou nodded slowly, chewing hard on his lip and taking deep breaths. He was beginning to calm down, and Keiji seized their chance.

“Why are you a coward? What were you afraid of?”

“Everything,” Koutarou said bitterly. “That you’d both get bored of me, that when you moved in Tetsu would think you’re a better housemate and you’d leave me behind...that I’ll fall in love too quickly and you’ll tell me I’m being stupid...but if I don’t act fast enough you’ll leave me again because why would you wait for me…”

“That really is everything,” Tetsurou commented, and then he reached out to grab Koutarou’s nose. “None of it’s happened, though, and the only reason any of it could would be if you didn’t talk to us about it.”

Koutarou went cross eyed and Tetsurou leaned forward, moving his hand so he could kiss Koutarou on the lips. Koutarou accepted it gratefully, his eyes closing, and when they were done he turned to Keiji, eyes pleading.

“You’re snotty,” Keiji said, and Koutarou whined, and Keiji held their breath as they kissed him, wiping their mouth immediately afterwards in an exaggerated movement that made Koutarou laugh.

“The future’s so scary…” Koutarou said after a moment, finally relaxing back into the couch and allowing Tetsurou and Keiji to press into each of his sides, holding his hands with their heads on his shoulders. “I hate not knowing what’s going to happen...where you’re both going to go. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t promise you won’t,” Keiji said, ignoring Tetsurou’s alarmed kick in the rough direction of their shin. “I can’t see the future, so if I did you know I’d be lying. But I can promise you that neither Tetsurou nor I have any intention of letting you go, and whatever problems the future does bring, we’re all committed to fighting them.”

“We’re a pretty good team, too,” Tetsurou added, hearing Koutarou’s releived sigh. “I don’t think there’s much that stands a chance against us if we’re all fighting together. Like superheroes, but for relationships. Or just for our relationship.”

It was a clumsy simile, but it made Koutarou smile, the kind of good-beats-evil story that Keiji knew he loved to believe in. In any other situation, Keiji would have been a skeptic, but pressed against Koutarou on a worn down couch with Tetsurou spouting comedic melodrama on his other side, Keiji thought that it might just be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you'd like to chat with and support me, i'm on [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice) and [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> wouldn't it be nice if everything went as i'd planned it and i could have released a chapter a day for this whole week? but of course that's not how things have panned out. i'm hoping to get three out this week, though, and will update regularly until it's done. subscribe for updates ♥
> 
> in the meantime, visit me on [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice).


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